THE ''NO NAME SERIES." 



WHAT IS THOUGHT OF THE PLAN. 

"The first of the 'No Name Series' of novels is 'Mercy Philbrick's Choice;' aiifl, 
if its successors nearly approach the excellence of this, the series will speedily have a 
very wide and favorable name." — Hartford Courant. 

"The 'No Name Series' of novels is rather a happy idea upon the part of the 
publishers. Curiosity will naturally stand on tiptoe, eager to discover through the 
author's style his or her identity." — Chicago Daily Inter-Ocean. 

"The inauguration of the 'No Name Series' was a happy thought. Nothing 
adds fascination to a really good literary work like the uncertainty or mystery of its 
authorship, and the public have read and are reading the new novel with avidity, in 
order that each constituent member of it may pass judgment. . . . ' Mercy Phiibrick's 
Choice' is a novel that will give the ' No Name Series' an acknowledged place in 
literature, and stimulate curiosity to meet its successors." — Boston Post. 

" If the succeeding volumes of the series are as good as this, its success will be 
assured, and curiosity will run higlv concerning the authorship of the various volumes."' 
— Neiu York Inde/'endent. 

"The conception of the series is entirely unique. . . . ' Mercy Philbrick's Choice ' 
is a fe icitous introduction to just such a series of novels as the one projected, and, if 
merit shall decide its popularity, an enthusiastic reception may be predicted for the 
book." — Hartford Post. 

" It is a good idea." — Troy Whig. 

" If its successors shall prove to be as good as ' Mercy Philbrick's Choice' is, the 
fortune of the series is well assured." — New York Evening Post. 

" The ' No Name Series ' promises to be an interesting and piquant literary enter- 
prise." — Portland Press. 

"The name business in our literature is terribly overdone, and, if the remaining 
stories of this series are as good and clever and well written as this one is, 'Mercy 
Philbrick's Choice,' readers will learn to trust more to their own taste and judgment, 
and rely less on reputations "' — New York Graphic. 

"The typographical appearance of the series is quite tasteful, paper, type, and ink 

are good, and the page shapely. The cover is black, the title showing in black against 

I a broad red bar; «hile to avert bad luck and persuade success the cover presents, also 

in black and red, the four-leaved clover and the ancient horseshoe." — Tlte New 

York Christian Union- 

'' The story is a very pleasant one, and will make a very favorable impression for 
the whole series." — Syracuse Standard. 

"The plan is an exceedingly happy one, — will gradually elevate a discriminating 
taste and establish a higher standard in fiction." — IVasJiington Capital. 

"The story is an admirable introduction to the new series, which h.is for its motto, 
' Is the gentleman anonymous? Is he a great unknown ?' and appears in a novel and 
pretty binding of black and red, with ornaments of four-leaved clover and horse- 
shoes." — Boston Daily Advertiser. 



ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 

Boston. 



NO NAME SERIES. 



DEIRDRE. 



NO NAME SERIES. 

" Is THE Gentleman anonymous ? Is he a Great Unknown ? " 

Daniel Deronda. 



Deirdre. 









of VVaSH' 



BOSTON: 

ROBERTS BROTHERS. 

1S76. 






Copyright, 1876, 
By Roberts Brothers. 



/ 



///^ 



r 



ARGUMENT. f 7 (^ 



' I ^HE King of Eman goes to a banquet in the house 
of Feilimid, his Story-teller. During the festiv- 
ity, Deirdre, the daughter of Feilimid, is born. Califa 
prophesies of her future beauty, and of the destruction 
\\t will bring on Eman and on the King and nobility, 
he nobles thereupon demand the death of the infant ; 
'but the King orders her to be shut up in a strong place 
f-U she grows old enough to become his wife. In course 
[of time, Deirdrb and Naisi, son of Usna, fall in love 
jwith one another ; and Naisi and his two brothers carry 
(her away to Alba, and take military service under the 
icing. The Albanian King falls in love with Deirdre, 
and tries to compass the death of Naisi and his broth- 
ers, who escape with Deirdre to a certain beautiful 
island in the sea. Thence they are decoyed by the King 
of Eman, who gives surety for their safety. They return 
under the guarantee of Fergus, son of Roy ; but the 
King, breaking his oath, has them murdered on the 
Green of Eman. The lamentations of Dierdre, and her 
death. 



: 



'T^HE action of this poem begins near Armagh, north off' 
-*■ Ireland, in the ancient palace of Emania, wherein f 
dwelt at that time Connor, the renowned and powerful King ' 
of Ulster. It then changes northward to the coast opposite I 
Rathlin Island ; whence, finding their fleet burnt by the 
King's troops, the Usnanian princes fly westward, till they/ 
arrive at the sound between Tory Island and the mainland,! 
where the galleys of the Fomorian pirates are lying at anchor.' 
There their herald is treacherously slain by Talc, the Fo- 
morian King, and they betake themselves towards the southi 
till they come to the beautiful plain of Irris Domnan, in 
Mayo, where they accept the hospitality of Keth, the grea 
captain of the troops of Mab and Olild, joint sovereigns 
Connaught. Thence they proceed westward to the coast 
Irris Domnan, where they slay the Fomorians and capture 
their fleet, in which they sail away round the northern shores 
for Alba, or Scotland. Crossing that part of the Atlantic he-f- 
tween the Giant's Causeway, Isla, and Alba, anciently calledl 
the Sea of Moyle, they sail northward by the coast of Canj- 
tyre, and at last take refuge, and build their dun, or townj, 
near Loch Etive, in Argyle. Here they accept military ser- 
vice under the young Albanian King, who, hearing of the 
exceeding beauty of Deirdre, falls in love with her. There- 
upon the three Usnanian princes, with Deirdrfe and their 
tribe, take refuge in one of the Hebridean Islands ; whence 
after some time they are decoyed by the agents of the King 
of Ulster. They sail again back to the Irish coast, and land 
at Beal Farsad, now Belfast ; whence they march inland to 
Emania, where the action of the story ends with the slaughter 
of themselves and their whole tribe. 



CONTENTS. 



j PAGE 

'The Feast in the House of Feilimid .... 9 

The Palace Garden 28 

The Flight from Eman 48 

The Welcome to the Mansion of Keth ... 74 

The Capture of the Fomorian Galleys ... 96 

The Sojourn in Alba . 129 

The Return to Eman 182 

The Tragedy of the House of the Red Branch 220 



DEIRDRE. 



THE FEAST IN THE HOUSE OF 
! FEILIMID. 

TT happed in Eman at the joyous time 

When wood-flowers bloomed, and roses in their 
prime 
Laughed round the garden, and the new-fledged 

bird 
'Mid the thick leaves its downy winglets stirred, 
That the King's Story-teller, Feilimid, 
'Mong all the bloom that, like a bright robe, hid 
The earth's dark places, felt himself full sad. 
He knew not why, and sent, to make him glad. 
His henchman with a message to the king, 
The nobles and the knights, and all, to bring 
From the bright palace straightway to his house. 
That they might hold therein a gay carouse. 



lO DEIRDRi:. 

And the king came, with knights and nobles all, 
And soon their shields hung o'er them in the hall : 
Buckles were loosened, belts and swords thrown 

by, 

And pleasure sparkled in each warrior's eye. 
Full soon the old man felt his soul restored. 
As laugh and jest were bandied round the board, 
As the king smiled upon him kind and gay, 
As songs were sung, and harps began to play. 
And cups were kissed by many a bearded lip. 
And care from all hearts loosed its felon grip. 
And higher rose the heart-inspiring hum 
Of the glad revel through the banquet room. 
As the blithe hours went on with laughter meet, 
With merry jest and minstrel's music sweet, 
And lay of war and tale of maid and man. 
And clash of cup and clinking of the can. 

Upon that revel gay the sun went down, 
And the pale night put on her starry crown ; 



FEAST IN THE HOUSE OF FEILIMID. 1 1 

Yet higher rose the joy and jollity 
Of the Great King and all that company : 
[ Till at the very topmost of their mirth, 
^ When jokes and jovial wit had brightest birth, 
(And all their hearts with generous wine were high, 
i' Through the whole house there rang a mighty cry, — 
A long, shrill-sounding, quivering wail of woe, 
Like the young heifer's cry in her last throe 
When a great snake coils round her on the heath. 
Crackling her bones and crushing out her breath. 
Round the blithe board the revellers sat still. 
As rose again that cry more wild and shrill : 
Amazed, some held on high th' untasted cup, 
Some at their swords and shields looked furtive 

up; 
Some, readier of hand, with nervous grip 
Clutched the long blade that dangled at the hip, 
And eyes sought eyes with quick inquiring glance; 
Till Feilimid arose, as from a trance 
Of terror, with pale face, — 



12 DEIRDR£. 

" O guests ! " he said, 
" What means this cry of anguish and of dread ? 
Instinctive in my heart its pangs I feel, 
Like the sharp griding of the poisoned steel ! 
Tell me, O Caffa ! — tell ! thou great and wise, 
Who knowest why morning dawns and dayligh 

dies, 
And comets glare and tempests pelt and beat. 
And the fierce Thunder-god his brazen feet 
Stamps in grim fury shaking earth and sky, — 
O wise one, tell what means this woful cry ! " 

Then Caffa spoke, — the King's own hoary sage. 
To whom all Nature like a golden page. 
Well conned, lay open, full of wondrous things, — 
" O knights and minstrels, — O Great King of kings. 
And thou, good friend of mine, O Feilimid, — 
From me of Nature's secrets few are hid. 
Well do I know this portent, — well I know 
Why rings throughout the house this cry of woe : 



FEAST IN THE HOUSE OF FEILIMID. 1 3 

1 

/Thy wife, O Feilimid, in travail lies, 
lAnd in his strength some god speaks through her 
cries ; 
ind with the last to thee a babe is born, 
Jright as the dawn of May's most glorious morn ! 
'hen let the feast go on ! The goblets fill, 
And round the board a great libation spill 
Unto the mighty gods of Earth and Sea, 
And Air and Fire, for a good destiny 
To the poor babe new-born, though all in vain 
I know shall be our prayers ! " 

Then rose again 
The hubbub of the feast, as King and knight 
Upstood, and brimming filled the goblets bright, 
And raised them with a shout their tall heads 

o'er, 
And turned them down, till on the shining floor 
The wine flowed like the plenteous April rain. 
Spattering their long limbs with its ruddy stain 
Like the red tide of battle ! 



14 DEIRDRK. \ 

Through the hall 
The guests again were silent one and all, 
As from a far-off door there came a noise 
Like that a strong wind makes, which blustering toys 
With the wood's leaves upon a summer day ; 
And from the door in solemn slow array 
A bevy of old beldames, two by two. 
Paced rustling up the hall in varied hue 
Of shawls and scarfs and robes and broidery 
Of silk or serge, befitting their degree 
As palace women. First of all there came 
Old Lavarcam, the Conversation Dame 
Of the Great King, who told him all the sport 
And loves and plots and scandals of the Court. 
A pace before them walked she mincingly, 
And to each great lord bent the pliant knee ; 
Sharp eyes she had, each speck and fault that saw, 
And face as yellow as an osprey's claw, 
And wrinkled, like tough vellum by the heat, 
As moved she toward the monarch's golden seat, 



FEAST IN THE HOUSE OF FEILIMID. 15 

Smirking and smiling on the baby bright 
That in her arms lay clad in lily white, 
With large blue eyes and downy yellow hair, 
I And skin like pink-leaves when the morns are fair. 
With many a bow she stopped before the King, 
Then turned to Feilimid : — 

" To thee I bring 
This babe thy wife gave birth for thee to-night. 
Did mortal brain e'er dream so fair a sight? 
Did mortal eye since Miled's day behold 
Such radiant skin, such hair of downy gold ? 
No ! never on this earth thou'lt find her peer : 
Then let great Caffa tell, the noble seer. 
If this sweet bud shall grow to woman's bloom. 
And what of joy or grief shall be her doom ! " 

Then Caffa rose, at first with peering gaze, 
Like one who looks through morning's misty haze 
To see some dark things hid in plains beyond ; 
Then his eyes flashed : then with light hand and fond 



l6 DEIRDR^. 

He touched the little babe on brow and breast, 
And thus to her alone these words addressed : — 



" O lovely little bud of womankind, 
In thy short day small gladness shalt thou find, 
Though thou shalt bourgeon into bloom and be 
Fairest of women ! Mighty queens shall see 
Thy fame spread wide, fulfilled of envy's gall, 
And long for thy destruction. Kings shall fall 
Before thee. Each thread of thy yellow hair 
For some great hero's heart shall be a snare 
Of love's enchantment : blue shall be thine eyes 
As the deep sapphire depths of April skies ; 
White pearls thy teeth, thy lips and bright cheeks 

red 
As berries in the bosky wildwood bred 
'Neath summer suns, and fair and smooth thy 

skin 
As the soft satin rose-leaves white and thin 
Of the King's garden in the prime of June ! — 



k 



FEAST IN THE HOUSE OF FEILIMID. 1 7 

Alas for thee, that ere the woful noo:i 

Of thy young day, — that day of grief distraught, — 

Full many a deed of darkness shall be wrought ! 

For thou, all beautiful, shalt wake the fire 

Of jealous anger and insane desire 

In many a hero's heart ; and war's red field 

Shall gleam with levelled lance and brazen shield 

And thirsty sword, where hostile banners rise 

Of kings renowned, to win thy smiles and sighs : 

Alas ! for in thy day, and all for thee, 

Great Usna's sons shall die by treachery 

And the King's wrath ; and from that deed of 

shame 
Fair Eman's halls shall feed the ravening flame 
Of war and carnage, kindled by the light 
Of thy destroying glances, till the night 
Of woe enwrap the land accurst of men, 
O Deirdre, evil fate beyond our ken ! 
O leveller of Ulad's fair abodes ! 
O beautiful bright firebrand of the gods ! " 

B 



1 8 deirdr£:. 

Then rose an aged lord with haughty air 

And shaggy brows and grizzled beard and hair, 

Whose fierce eye o'er the margin of his shield 

Had gazed from war's first ridge on many a fie/ " 

Unblinking at the foe that on him glared, ) 

And might be ten to one for all he cared. 

Now unto all things was he callous grown, 

And his hard heart was like the nether stone, 

As on the babe he bent his dreadful eye : 

" O King ! " he said, " O champions great and 

high! 
O minstrels ! list this tale I tell to ye 
My father brought from lands beyond the sea : — 

Far in the North, a smooth Hebridean strand 
Spread to the changeful heavens its silvery sand. 
And o'er it in a vale 'mid cliffs and rocks 
A village gleamed, whose herds and woolly flocks 
Fed o'er the inland downs and ferny dells 
And breezy moorlands gay with heather bells. 



FEAST IN THE HOUSE OF FEILIMID. 1 9 

oyful the village life by shore and mead ; 
/ Chey reared their flocks and sowed their barley seed, 
/Sid fished the fruitful sea when winds were light, 
And prayed unto the good gods morn and night, 
And sheared and reaped in peace and quietness, 
Unknowing envy's pangs or war's distress. 

One young June day, when Winter with shrill groans 

Felt coming death through all his frozen bones. 

And three long days had struggled in the North 

In storm to march his drunken army forth 

Of icebergs toppling o'er the ocean swell 

Against the South from their cold citadel, 

A strong wind's voice mixed with the breakers' roar ; 

The villagers had gathered by the shore. 

To watch the icebergs' terrible array. 

Over the waters stretching far away. 

Some bright with sun-gleams, some enwrapt in 

cloud, 
Some struggling each 'gainst each with thunder loud 



20 DEIRDR^. 

On their long march to fight the joyous sun, 
And in the fight to find themselves undone. 
And as the people looked, upon the floe '" 

They saw a little thing as white as snow 
Come towards them with the tide the wind be- 
fore. 
Till a great breaker dashed it on the shore. 
A small, frail thing it was, with pearly hair, — 
The far-sent offspring of the Northern Bear, 
And to their simple minds a thing like it 
Upon their windy shores had never lit ; 
As weak it moaned like a young lamb that wails 
For its lost mother in the lonesome dales. 

Then Ere, a fisherman, fell on his knee 
And cried, ' Some god hath sent his progeny 
To bless our village and to be our stay 
In time of joy, or in the evil day : 
So let us build a temple fair and new, 
Where we may worship it with reverence due, 



FEAST IN THE HOUSE OF FEILIMID. 21 

•And give the heedful god his full content 
/ Of glory for the bright boon he hath sent ! ' 
Straightway they built a temple o'er a spring 
That to the wind and sun its waves did fling 
Beside the village green with murmuring sound 
Of gladness all the changeful seasons round, 
Since Mananan, the Sea-god, first upthrew 
The wild isle's stony ribs unto the blue. 
And there within that temple's fair abode 
They worshipped year by year their new-found god, 
And morn and eve they fed it daintily 
Upon the best fruits of the land and sea, 
And morn and eve within the fountain bright 
It washed its woolly coat all silvery white ; 
And as the years went on it grew and grew, 
Till the great bull that ranged their pastures through 
Seemed like a heifer when it stood a-nigh : 
And thus it fared till ten long years went by 
In happiness, and to the people brought 
Each dream they dreamed, and each fond wish they 
sought. 



22 DEIRDR^. 

One day of summer, when the village men 
Were far away by mountain and by glen 
Hunting or herding, or on ocean's field 
Fishing for what the teeming waves might yield, 
And on the green the children were at play 
With merry gambols 'neath the genial ray, -^ 
The mighty she-bear stole from out her house 
With step as noiseless as the small brown mouse 
Makes when a crumb of bread is on the floor 
And the cat nigh, and ranged the bright green o'er 
As was her wont. 

Beneath a hawthorn-tree 
A little child sat weeping piteously, 
With a great thorn in his white foot sunk deep 
That made the red blood flow. Then 'gan to creep 
The great bear round him snuffing, till she came 
And licked the blood ; then shot a dreadful flame 
From the fierce depths of her red rolling eye. 
And like a fiend she reared her head on high 



FEAST IN THE HOUSE OF FE I LI MID. 23 

'er the fair child, and with fell face and grim 
\n hot blood wallowing tore him limb from limb ; 
Then turned she on the children all around 
And slew them, till the smooth green's grassy 

ground 
Was all one mass of steaming flesh and gore 
And echoing to her loud remorseless roar ! 

Up from the sea-beach in that hour of fear 
Old Ere returned, and drave his iron spear 
Into the great bear's heart, and slew her. Then, 
From the hills running, came the village men ; 
And Colp, the father of the first slain child, 
In his blind ecstasy of vengeance wild 
Fell upon gray-haired Ere and took his life : 
Then Erc's strong grandson buried deep his knife 
In Colp's brave heart : and then in parties two 
The people ranged themselves, and slew and slew. 
Strong knee to knee and bloody sword to sword ; 
And the deep vale the echoing terrors roared, 



24 DEIRDRA. 



Till the great sun beyond the island hills • 

Cast his last beams upon the red blood rills, 
And the pale moon arose, — when nought was see^_* 
But death and ashes where blithe peace had been ! — 
What with the she-cub first should they have 
done ? " — 

" Slain it upon the strand ! " cried every one ! 

Then on the babe the warrior looked again. 
And sternly said, " Thus let this child be slain, 
That we may scape unsuffering from the sting 
And gall of the black woe that she shall bring ! " 

As when, mid Allen's bogs, some sunny day 
The wild geese with their offspring are at play, 
And as they gambol by the lakelet's edge 
The hunter's arrow shears the rustling sedge 
And splashes in the shallow marsh thereby ; 
At once the wild fowl raise their signal cry 



FEAST TN THE HOUSE OF FE I LI MID. 25 

Oi( clanger, and loud cackling in their fear 

S(!)me hide in reeds, some seek the middle mere, — 

So at the grisly warrior's words of doom 

The aged dames 'gan rustling round the room ; 

Some fled the hall, some gathered round the child, 

And shrieking clapped their hands with clamor 

wild. 
Then up stood Feilimid, and strove to lull 
The tumult ; but his heart of pain was full, 
And the grief-laden words stuck in his throat : 
Then rose the king's voice like a clarion note. 
Joyful and speaking gay words full of cheer : — 

" O men ! " he said, " what marvel do ye fear 
In this small baby beautiful and bright ? 
As well feel terror at the morning's light 
That comes as Nature sends it ; at the sheen 
Of springtide when the fields put on their green ; 
Or at the lovely leaves and golden flowers 
That bloom at summer in bright Eman's bowers ! 



26 DEIRDR^. 

Be sure the fates no treachery intend, 

Be sure the mighty Gods could never send 

\ 
A thing on earth so beautiful as this " 

To make our sorrow and to mar our bliss. 

Then let us rather thank the Glorious Ones 

Who rule in heaven, and roll the stars and 

suns, 

That they have thought us worthy here below 

On our dull lives a treasure to bestow 

Of beauty like this babe beyond all price : 

Then, cease your fears and let my words suffice, 

No harm shall come to Eman in her day. 

For I will build a palace fair and gay, 

Where she shall blossom like the fairest rose 

That in the loveliest bower of Eman blows, 

And in the tide of time in Eman's hall 

Shall be my bride, the best-belov'd of all ! " 

Then rang the carven rafters to the shout 
The revellers gave ; and then the merry rout 



FEAST IN THE HOUSE OF FEILIMID. 2/ 

Went on once more with tenfold joy and zest, 
With minstrel's tale, and jovial song and jest. 
Till morn's gay star rose o'er the golden sea, 
And sent to slumber all that company. 



deirdr£. 



THE PALACE GARDEN. 



EAR Eman's hall, beyond the outward fosse, 
There was a slope all gay with golden moss, 
Green grass and lady ferns and daisies white. 
And fairy-caps, the wandering bee's delight, 
And the wild thyme that scents the upland breeze, 
And clumps of hawthorn and fair ashen trees. 
And at its foot there spread a little plain 
That never seemed to thirst for dew or rain ; 
For round about it waved a perfumed wood. 
And through its midst there ran a crystal flood 
With many a murmuring song and elfin shout. 
In whose clear pools the crimson-spotted trout 
Would turn his tawny side to sun and sky, 
Or sparkling upward catch the summer fly ; 



THE PALACE GARDEN. 29 

W</ whose green banks the iris in its pride, 
Naming in bhie and gold, grew side by side 
T'ith meadow-sweet and snow-white ladie's-gowns, 
And daffodils that shook their yellow crowns 
In wanton dalliance with each breeze that blew ; 
And there the birds sang songs for ever new 
To those that loved them as friend loveth friend ; 
And there the cuckoo first his way would wend 
From far-off climes and kingdoms year by year, 
And rest himself and shout his message clear 
Round the glad woods, that winter was no more, 
And summer's reign begun from shore to shore. 

Beside that merry streamlet all day long, 

From month to month, was heard the craftsman's 

song ; 
For they were gathered there from many lands. 
And fast the palace grew beneath their hands. 
Until each fretted roof and cornice fold 
Shone through the woodland sprays like fiery gold. 






30 DEIRDR^. 

Then round the flowery sjope and level space ' 

They built a giant wall, from cope to base \ 

Unbroken, save by one small massive door 

With the king's shield in porphyry fashioned o'er, 

And guarded by a triple gate of brass 

Through which, unbid, no living wight could 

pass. 
And never upon mortal's proudest dream 
Did such a fairy sight of splendor gleam 
As that gay palace glowing in the light. 
With door-ways carven of the silver white, 
And doors of burnished gold and ivory. 
And halls roofed o'er with the pink cedar tree ; 
And garden glorious with all flowers that grew, 
And lawn in whose green midst a jet upflew 
Of water from a well of carmogal. 
Backward again all diamonded to fall 
In breeze-blown mists and showers of glittering 

spray 
Upon the gold fish at their happy play, — 



TirE PALACE GARDEN. 3 1 

■ 1 

i 

An<4 there they nursed the babe on breast and 

; knee 
Within these palace halls full tenderly ; 
And there she grew and blossomed year by year 
In light and loveliness without a peer, 
Like a fair fragrant flower that time by time 
Gains some new beauty in its summer prime ; 
And oft about the garden she would run 
And like a fairy dance in shade and sun, 
And make companionship with every thing 
That through the garden moved on foot or wing. 
And scarce seven years had passed till with her 

tongue 
Nimble with elfish questions she had wrung 
The very heart from out her nurse's breast : 
And all this time did no eye living rest 
Upon her, save the king's own royal eye 
And Caffa's, and the lady's proud and high 
Who nursed her, and old Lavarcam's, the dame. 
Who oft in fear and wonder thither came 



32 DEIRDR^. 

To talk with her beneath the garden bowers : I 
And there amid the brightness of the flowers, > 
Laughing the child would say, — 

" O Lavarcam ! 
Come, tell me ! — Oh come, tell me what I am ! 
Did I come here just like the summer fly- 
To sparkle in the sun and then to die ? 
I've asked the flies full oft, but murmuringly 
They said they were too filled of present glee 
To give me answer, and they passed away ; 
And once unto the streamlet did I say 
* What am I ? ' — for in grove or garden walk 
I oft feel lonely and perforce must talk 
To all things round that creep or walk or fly. 
And well I know their speech. And ' What am I ? ' 
I asked the stream ; and it was churlish too 
And would not speak, but from its weeds upthrew 
A great brown frog puffed up with too much 

pride. 
And ' Ugly ! Ugly ! Ugly ! ' hoarse he cried ; 



/ THE PALACE GARDEN. 33 

I 

i 

And then from off the streamlet's grassy brim 

He made great mouths at me, and I at him, 

Until I grew afeard of him and me, 

And ran and ran by bank and rustling tree 

Up to the fount to see my gold fish glance, 

And with them in the sun like this to dance ! " — 

Then as a swallow that from o'er the foam 

Returns at last to her dear native home. 

And filled with joy beneath the branches cool 

In airy circles skims her favorite pool. 

So round the fountain with light foot and free 

The little elfish maid danced gracefully, 

Now here, now there, in her wild gambolings 

O'er the smooth grass, q,s if she too had wings ! 

When nigh ten years had passed, she asked the 

dame, — 
" O Lavarcam, why narn'st thou not my name ? 
I know it, — Dcirdre ! — for one day I heard 
Old Caffa mutter it through his great beard. 



34 DEIRDR^. 

Art thou afraid of it ? Not so am I, 

For oft I shout it out so high, — so high, 

The wild-birds know it on their topmost tree, 

And the wall sends it echoing back to me : 

What means it ? And why do they keep me 

here 
Within these high walls shut from year to year ? 
What means it ? " — 

Then old Lavarcam replied, 
" O dear one, thou shalt be the Great King's bride ! " 

" A bride ! — O Lavarcam, I know that too ! 
Oft have I seen the little wild-birds woo 
Their winsome brides amid the branches green. 
And call, and call, ' My Queen ! my Queen ! my 

Queen ! ' 
'Twas only in the early yester morn. 
As I sat close beneath yon flowering thorn, 
I saw a blue wood-pigeon and his bride 
Adown the garden grass walk side by side, 



) 
/ THE PALACE GARDEN. 35 



Cooing in gladness as they went along ; 
Then I stood up and sang their marriage song, 
And oh ! I sang so loving, loud, and clear, 
That the sweet wild-birds joined me far and 

near ; — 
Now tell me, Lavarcam, is this the way 
The King and I within his court shall play ? 
No answer. Then to Caffa I will go, 
As he walks brooding in the garden slow, 
And ask of him how all these things befel, 
For he knows more than mortal tongue can tell ! " 

Then dancing o'er the sward away went she, 
And plucked wise Caffa's robe full wistfully. 
And looked into his calm face with a smile 
A heart of flinty stone might well beguile : — 
" O Caffa, thou hast taught me many a thing, 
Why the winds murmur and the tempests ring, 
Why 'neath the genial sun the wild flowers bloom, 
And why the glittering flies their tints assume ; 



36 DEIRDRi:. 

^ 1- 

And thou hast taught my morning orison 
To the great God who rules the golden sun, j 
And how to lift my hands and raise my wail 
At Samhain to the Moon so cold and pale, — 
Yet thou hast never told me even my name ! 
But I have heard thee name it, and that shame 
And great dishonor and black woe and crime 
Shall trouble all the kingdom in my time ! — 
What am I ? And why live I here alone ? " 

Then Caffa smote his breast, and with a groan 
Of sorrow bent on her his pitying eye. 
And down the garden strode without reply. 

Then ran she till she plucked his gown again, — 
" O Caffa, stay ! O Caffa, ease my pain ! — 
Why does the King clothe me in royal dress. 
And look on me with such great happ^iness, — 
And gaze and smile, and swear by Sun and Wind 
My peer shall ne'er be found 'mongst womankind ? 



I THE PALACE GARDEN. 37 

I 

Be sure within this garden fair doth live 

Full many a thing that can more comfort give : 

My yellow hair is not so full of light 

As the gold fish that swim the fountain bright ; 

My lips were ne'er so fragrant or so red 

As the gay roses in yon garden-bed ; 

And yet the King says they are brighter far, 

And that mine eyes are like the morning star! — 

What means it ? " 

With a sigh then Caffa said, 
" O guileless little thing ! O gold-haired maid ! 
What boots it aye to thee these things to know ? 
For thee in joy the seasons come and go. 
For thee each day with happiness is fraught. 
Then take them as they come, without a thought ! " 

But she, unsatisfied, plucked at his gown 
Again, and, with a face half smile and frown, 
Said, " Nay ! thou goest not. What brings him 
here ? 



38 DEIRDRS. , 

I 
What is a King, that his bold looks I fear ? 

Thou answerest not. Ah ! well — ah ! wel>l I 

know ! — 

One day in springtime, when the daw and crow, 

The finch, the blackbird and the blue-winged jay, 

Each unto each their friendly thoughts 'gan say. 

Above the trees a whirring sound I heard, 

And in the sky I saw the eagle bird 

Come hither from the far-off mountains bare, 

Cleaving with mighty wings the middle air ; 

And, as he came, all living things were mute. 

The weasel sought the old tree's gnarled root. 

The hare hid 'neath her fern, the garden-mouse 

Tumbled with sudden fright into its house, 

And every brooding bird upon her nest 

Laid closer to her young her downy breast, 

Until he passed away in headlong speed. 

*Ha! ha!' I said, 'thou art a king indeed!'" 

One stilly day, 'neath autumn's amber beam. 
She sat with Lavarcam beside the stream, 



I THE PALACE GARDEN. 39 

And looked upon the leaves that strewed the ground 
In fading pomp and glory all around, 
And said, — 

" O Lavarcam, and shall I be 
Like these poor castaways of bush and tree ? 
I've seen them bloom on many a branch and stem, 
And I have bloomed, and why not die like them ! 
Thou hast not died, for the Gods understood 
My hapless case, and they were kind and good. 
And left thee as my sole companion here, 
Whom I can always love without a fear ! " 

At this the old dame's look grew soft and kind. 
Her heart swelled and with tears her eyes were 

blind, 
And close she drew the maid, and fondly pressed 
The blooming bosom to her withered breast. 

"Alas ! and woe is me ! thou winsome maid, 

Why speak of death in thy bright bloom ? " she said, 



40 DEIRDRE. 

" And why perplex thy heart and cloud thy brai| 
And rive my bosom with thy questions vain ? 
Why think these thoughts of woe ? Ah ! rather 

quaff 
Thy cup of early joy, and dance and laugh 
And gambol while thou may'st, for soon enough 
Thy skies may darken and thy paths grow rough ; 
And yet, perchance, the mighty Gods who sit 
On their bright thrones, and see the centuries flit 
Like shadows by before their golden gate, 
May yet relent and weave a happier fate 
For thee, belov'd, when thou goest forth a queen 
Into the world by thee as yet unseen ! " 

One day the King came and with Caffa talked, 
As down the garden, side by side, they v/alked : — 
" O Caffa, now what boots thy prophecy ? 
What harm hath come to Eman and to me 
For having of my will in this small thing ? 
See yonder, merrier than the birds that sing. 



I THE PALACE GARDEN. 4^ 

She sports and gambols round the garden bright 
In her young innocence and fresh delight ! — • 
What harm ? " 

"O King," said Caff a, "nothing yet. 
Her day will come, and thine, of black regret 
And unavailing tears and bitter woe. 
But see how with her radiant cheeks aglow 
She turns and comes to sift us once again 
With queries wisdom's craft will fight in vain ! " 

Up came she glittering 'mid the garden blooms, 
Like some gay orient bird of gorgeous plumes, 
Airy and graceful, glorious to behold, 
Bright smiling in her sheeny robes of gold. 
Then to her softly said the King in play, 
" What sport hadst thou in this sweet spot to- 
day .? " 

" I played but with myself, and that with fear ; 
For all the birds were sullen, thou being here, 



42 DEIRDR£. 

And would not sing for me ! " the maid replied. 

Then the King laughed, and 'twixt half-wounded 

pride 
And wonder spoke again, " What hast thou not, 

maid, that thou complainest of thy lot ? 

Of this fair place, — this house and garden green, — 
And all its merry creatures, thou art queen. 
What wantest thou ? " 

Then she replied, " O King, 
Long time the wild-birds' songs to me would bring 
But joy, yet now mixed up in every note 
Some tone of sadness to my heart v/ill float. 
Long time I laughed ; but now, I know not why, 
Their warbling songs both make me laugh and 

cry. 
And, as I grow and grow, mine eyes can view 
Things different from what my childhood knew. 
The other day, a linnet's family 

1 saw full happy in the birchen tree. 



THE PALACE GARDEN. 43 

Then sudden came the hawk, and spoiled the nest, 
And slew the young, while with blood-dabbled breast 
The wounded mother on the sward lay tost, 
Fluttering, and wailing for the loved ones lost. 
Then into my dimmed eyes the salt tears came, 
And something burned within my heart like flame ; 
And wild I clapped my hands and smote my brow, 
And cried, ' O mother ! mother ! where art thou 
To watch and wail me when mine hour is come, 
Like these poor birds ? ' — O King, what hapless 

doom 
Is on me ? " 

Then the King : " Nought but the best 
Of fortune on thy golden head shall rest. 
While I am King and sit upon the throne ; 
And thou within my heart shalt reign alone, 
And thou shalt see the great bright world outside. " 

Then sudden changed her mood, and, " Oh ! " she 
cried, 



44 DEIRDR^. I 

" I saw it once, and I will tell thee how, | 

One day, as I sat 'neath the beechen bough, 

I saw a little squirrel climb the tree, 

Sit on a branch, and eye me roguishly. 

These were my glad times, and the squirrel gay 

Amid the branches green did seem to say. 

With wild bright eyes, and bushy tail upcurled, 

' Come up ! come up ! come up, and see the world !' 

And up I clomb the green tree after him, 

Higher, and higher still, from limb to limb. 

Till from the topmost boughs at length I gazed 

Over the garden wall, and then half-dazed 

With wonder saw I the great world spread out 

That Lavarcam tells all the tales about ! 

And first upon a gentle sloping hill 

I saw a sight, and seem to see it still, — 

With all its moats and towers, a palace great, 

And a strong band of heroes from its gate 

Issuing upon the broad white gleaming road 

That from the palace leads by this abode. 



I THE PALACE GARDEN. 45 

Now broader streamed their banner's silken fold, 
And brighter flashed their harnesses of gold, 
As nearer by our gateway they did come, 
With loud brass clashing and great roar of drum. 
And on their front came riding side by side 
Three youthful knights in all their martial pride, 
With red cloaks fluttering in the summer breeze 
And gay gems flashing on their harnesses, 
And on the helm that guarded each proud head. 
And on each shield where shone the Branch of Red, 
And, as they passed, the eldest of the three 
With great black wistful eyes looked up at me ; 
Foj he did mark this yellow head of mine 
Amid the green tree's branches glint and shine. 
And oh ! the look, — the fond bright look he 
gave ! " 

Then flushed the King's brow like an angry wave 
That rises wallowing from the storm-vexed sea 
Under a blood-red sunset threateningly. 



46 DEIRDRi<J. 

Then Caffa started, and with troubled look 
Full dolefully his withered head he shook, 
And muttered to himself, " The poisoned knife 
Hath gleamed at last for Eman's woe and strife, 
For the king's heart and Usna's noble sons ! " 

While heedlessly as the blithe streamlet runs 
The maid went on, unweeting of the pain, — 
" And then they passed, and then I looked again. 
And oh ! the sight I saw, the woodlands gay, 
The windy moorlands, and the mountains gray, 
The world's great shining plains spread out so far, — 
Oh ! farther than the slender glittering bar 
Of cloud that oft in windless nights of June 
Lies like a golden lance athwart the moon ! " 

And thus she questioned them, and told the smart 
That 'gan to prey on her young budding heart, 
Till sixteen slender years away had flown 
Over her golden head, and she had grown 



j THE PALACE GARDEN. 47 

Owner of all the beauty that once graced 

Eire and Banba, Foela, and the chaste 

Crede of Anann's Paps, and gay Ailleen 

Of Leinster, and the young Momonian Queen, 

Moria, and the Danann Goddesses ; 

Una of Irian woods and bloomy leas ; 

Ain^ the Fair, the Brightness of the grass ; 

And Samhain mild, who holds the Moon's pale glass ; 

Sad Cliona, ruler of the Southern storm ; 

And regal Fincave of the Sun-bright form ; 

And Aevin, Guardian of Kincora's gate ; 

And Amarac the Wise and Fortunate ! 



48 DEIRDR£. 



THE FLIGHT FROM EMAN. 



/'"^ALM Autumn died, and in that garden fair 

The last flowers withered in the treacherous 
air. 
The little stream with mournful murmurs rolled, 
And the trees doffed their robes of bronze and gold, 
And fading blue and green, and glowing red ; 
And all the outside lands lay damp and dead, 
Wrapped in a cheerless shroud of foggy haze, 
Voiceless for lengths of dreary days on days, 
Save now and then through the dull gloom was 

heard 
The wierd-like warning of the drummer-bird, 
The bittern, from the flat isles of the mere. 
Or curlew's calling, now remote, now near, 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 49 

Or the wild plover from the upland springs, 

Or mighty whirr of multitudinous wings 

Of rooks and noisy starlings spreading o'er 

The cattle pastures by the river-shore. 

And sometimes, too, the ruffian winds would come 

To chase the dying leaves from their last home 

In the forlorn grove, or with dread sound 

The Thunder God would rise from underground 

And roar amid the gaps of distant hills. 

And the thick rain would pour and swell the 

rills • 
To rivers, and the rivers into seas. 
Till all at once would rise a southern breeze. 
Born 'mid the bowers of some more genial clime, 
And make a mimic summer for a time. 

But soon all soft airs died, and from between 
The east and north a strong wind blew full keen 
For many a day, and from the steely sky 
The sun deceptive let his arrows fly 
3 » 



50 DEIRDR^. 

On bank and brake, and without heat to fall 
Ev'n 'gainst the garden's gleaming southern wall ; 
And colder still it blew, till one bright morn 
It lulled awhile. Upon the spreading thorn 
The field-fares bickered at the ruddy haw, 
The last fruit of the year ; the thievish daw 
Fought on the palace gable with his wife ; 
And the fierce magpie, born to ceaseless strife, 
Swung on the larch and told his household woes, 
Or plumed his tail and threatened all his foes 
With vicious screams and angry rhapsodies ; 
And loud the finches chirruped in the trees ; 
While, high o'er all, in blue, thin columns broke 
From the tall chimney-tops the palace smoke. 
All things shone crisp and cold, till from the sea, 
Between the east and north, rose gradually 
A great gray woolly cloud, that grew and grew 
Voluminous, till from the ether blue 
It blotted out the sun ere evening's hour. 
And wrapt the ghostly garden, tree and bower, 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 51 

In its thick folds obscure. Then from on high, 
To earth slow spiralling adown the sky, 
The first great feathery snow-flakes made their way, 
Till all the garden changed from black to gray, 
From gray to white. Then rose the wind again 
From the fell North and growled against the pane 
And round the house, and each successive blast 
As the night fell grew stronger than the last, 
Till, as the great whales, gathered in a shoal, 
In some far bay anear the shining pole, 
Gambol in thunder, while the waters boil 
Around them like the Maelstrom's whirling coil, 
And high to heaven the sheeted foam-wreaths toss. 
So that strong wind amidst the feathery floss 
Of falling snow wallowed the livelong night, 
Tumultuous, till at length the morning light 
Rose calm and clear, and upward sprang the sun. 
And with his level beams serenely shone 
On the soft snow robe that lay white and pure 
O'er glade and splendid hill and dazzling moor. 



52 DEIRDR^. 

On this first virgin day of wintry sheen, 
When round the glittering garden nought was green, 
Save where the snow sUpt from the lofty pine, 
Or where the gehd leaves half-black would shine 
Through the white wreaths upon the laurel shade, 
At her bovver window musing sat the maid, 
With Lavarcam beside her. On her knee 
With listless hand she held her broidery 
Of golden woof. 

" O thou, my bosom's friend," 
At length she said, " when comes the weary end 
Of this most weary life .'* Alas, in vain 
To change this dull existence I am fain. 
See yonder, by the warm side of the brake. 
How the sleek hares their morning revels make, 
And toss the snow around them in their play. 
Ev'n these poor things, — these have their merry 

day, 
And live and die in freedom. And must I 
In ceaseless durance live, in prison die .-* 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 53 

Ah ! rather, — but behold how from afar 

The king-bird comes these creatures' sport to mar ! — 

Look ! look ! O Lavarcam ! " 

They looked, and saw 
The eagle of the golden beak and claw 
And bronze-bright feathers shadowy overhead, 
And silent on the elastic ether spread 
A space, or with alternate flutterings 
Beating the light air with his winnowing wings ; 
While, underneath, the quick hares 'gan to flee 
Into the brake, save one that tremblingly 
Crouched blind with fear. Then, as when 'cross the 

heaven 
On a wild March day the dark wrack is driven, 
And a small cloud-rent sails athwart the sun, 
Sudden a bright gleam smites the marshland wan, 
Arrowy and swift, so like that flash of light 
The mighty king-bird from the heavenly height 
Shot down upon the shuddering prey below 
With a great whirr that raised the powdery snow 



54 DEIRDRi:. 



In a pale cloud around, and from that cloud 
His piercing mort-scream echoed shrill and loud 
Upon the listeners' ears ; then with his prey 
UjD through the blue bright heaven he sailed away, 
Leaving upon the snow a broad red streak 
Of blood behind him. 

With a tremulous shriek 
Then Deirdre clapped her hands and cried, "Ah 

me! 
Alas ! alas ! what marvels do I see 
Of woe and death within this fated place ! " 
And then she wept awhile, till with a face 
All smiles and courtliness the old dame spoke : — 

" O maid ! why weepest thou ? The eagle's stroke 
Fell on its natural prey, no more. But look 
How from the great oak-tree beside the brook 
Yon raven lights, and round the blood doth 

dance, 
And stops, and eyes it eagerly askance, 



THE FLIGHT FROM EMAN. 55 

And drinks it ! — Ha ! thou shudderest at the 

sight 
And weepest still. But see these colors bright, 
The blood's fresh scarlet in the morning beam, 
The raven's plumage with its inky gleam, 
Blending together, and how gay they show 
Upon the sunlit sheet of pearly snow. 
Child of my heart's best love ! ah, rather think, 
Not of the bloody draught the bird will drink, 
But of these glorious colors when they grace 
All beautiful some brave young prince's face, — 
The raven's black on eyebrows, beard, and hair. 
On teeth and skin the snow's white brilliance fair, 
The red blood's splendor on bright lips and cheeks. 
And thou the lady his fond bosom seeks ! " 

Then Deirdr^ grew full pale, and in her eyes 
There came a look half terror, half surprise, 
Till from her beating heart the blood returned, 
And o'er her face the briirhtening blushes burned 



56 DEIRDR^. 



Up to the roots of her soft yellow hair, 
Then low she sighed and said, — 

"Why mock my care, 
O Lavarcam ! with thoughts that thou wilt find 
But as weak visions of thy sanguine mind ? 
I, but the King's poor chattel, — I to think 
Of such great happiness ! " 

"From the sweet brink 
Of the King's cup of joy unto his lip, " 
Said Lavarcam, "there may be many a slip. 
As the old saw doth say. A King's control 
In slavish chains can bind no freeborn soul. 
' Like unto like ' is still a maxim sage ; 
Youth unto blooming youth, and age to age. 
As well might this old withered heart of mine 
For some gay noble of the palace pine. 
As the King seek thy love. But I have vowed 
No heart-break sad thy life's young morn shall cloud. 
And I have chosen for thee a noble knight, 
Young, beautiful, and brave ; in all things bright 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 57 

As those fair-shining colors that we see. 

And thou must love him well, for he loves thee I " 

" I cannot love but one, " replied the maid, 
" And he — I know him not ! " and sore afraid, 
And blushing still, she led the aged crone 
Into another room more still and lone. 
And sat her down, and there with guileless art 
Poured forth the confidence of her young 

heart ; 
And told her of the well-remembered day 
She heard the drums and saw the pageant gay 
March down the palace road, and of the knight 
Of the black locks and loving glances bright, 
And regal bearing, and lithe, graceful limb ; 
And how within her heart she thought of him 
Through all that long time ; while with twinkling 

eyes 
The wily beldame feigned a new surprise 
At every word, and when the maid was done, — 
3* 



58 DEIRDRE. 

" Oh ! wonderful ! " she cried : " the very one — 
The very self-same knight I've chosen for thee ! 
Naisi, the flower of Eman's chivalry, 
Great Usna's son and cousin of the King; 
And him and you together I will bring, 
If fortune smiles, in garden, grove, or vale. 
Where you may utter forth your mutual tale 
And open your young hearts ; and may the Gods 
Look smiling on you from their blest abodes. 
And watch and ward you from all sore distress. 
And give you long, sweet days of happiness ! " . 

Straightway to Naisi the young Red Branch Knight 
Went Lavarcam, and filled him with delight, 
As well she told, with voluble display 
Of her well-practised tongue, how night and day 
Young Deirdr^ thought of him, and him alone ! 
And to and fro she went as time rolled on 
Full secretly, till long ere spring's return 
Their hearts with love's hot fires began to burn. 



THE FLIGHT FROM EMAN. 59 

And now within the gilded palace room 

Was not one look or word or sigh of gloom 

From Deirdre, as the happy, heavenly time 

Of love's first dawning brightened towards its prime, 

The hour that by the old dame's subtle art 

Would bring them face to face and heart to heart. 

And all things now she looked upon before 
With thoughts full sad, a different aspect wore, 
Transformed and brightened by love's genial 

ray; 
And when the King came on a certain day, 
So boundless was her joy, she smiled on him 
With radiant face, and eyes no longer dim. 
Whereat the glad King rubbed his jewelled hands, 
And swore by all the gods of seas and lands 
To marry her that moment he was fain. 
And, as he went, be sure that ne'er again 
So light his golden-sandalled feet would pass 
As on that mornin<:r throucfh the irate of brass. 



6o DEIRDRE. 



Now Winter died the windy hills among, 
And Spring came singing her delightful song, 
And scattering flowers around her as she came, 
And flooding all the skies with azure flame. 
One balmy day when brightly shone the sun, 
And when the King was to his hunting gone 
With Conal Carna, where Dunseverick stood, 
Perched on its gray rock o'er the ocean flood ; 
And while they listened to the harp's sweet sound. 
And while the gem-bright cups of mead went round, 
While the King laughed, while oft his secret mind 
Went back to his fair flower of womankind, — 
On this calm day, beneath the wildwood tree 
Stood Naisi in a glade where murmuringly 
The stream sped out with silver-gleaming fall 
From underneath fair Deirdre's garden wall. 
Around him shone the sights of early May, 
The golden broom, the hawthorn's blossomed spray, 
The daffodils high nodding o'er the grass 
Beside the pool that spread like azure glass, 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 6l 

The brakes of green where birds began to sing 
And each to each make love with twittering 

wing, 
The bkie-bell droojDing o'er its slender stem, 
The daisy shining like a silver gem 
Amidst the fragrant grass. And bright as they 
Looked Naisi in his princely garments gay : 
On his proud head a birred green he bare, 
Rimmed round with pearls, whence flowed his raven 

hair, 
A lustrous flood of love-locks smooth and long 
Over his brawny shoulders broad and strong. 
Unto his tall knee fell his loric's fold 
Of crimson woof and fringe of woven gold ; 
And o'er his swelling breast a belt was flung. 
And from its clasp a mighty falchion hung 
In its long sheath that, like a serpent's scale, 
Glittered with emerald and the silver pale. 
At his strong hip an ancient dirk he wore, 
That on its scabbard the brave semblance bore 



62 DEIRDRS. 

Of his great race, — an Osprey fierce and proud, 

Resistless swooping from a stormy cloud. 

And at each motion that the hero made 

The sun smiled on him, lightening all the glade 

With golden flashes and blue glimmerings 

From cloak and arms and baldric's studs and rings. 

Graceful he leant upon his javelin shaft, 
And often to himself full low he laughed 
With joy, as love's deep fountain bubbled up 
From his great heart, like sweet wine o'er its cup 
Poured by a generous hand. Oft-times he eyed 
With eager look the green glade's bosky side ; 
For on that day old Lavarcam had said 
Young Deirdr^ should walk down the woodland 

glade, 
Freed for the moment by her subtle tongue 
From the sharp nurse's watching. And not long 
Looked Naisi, till amid these bowers of spring 
He saw his loved one's garments glittering 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 63 

In the soft sunny light that seemed to throw 
Around her face divine a triple glow 
Of glory to his eyes, as she drew near. 
And not with throbbing heart of doubtful fear, 
Nor yet with trembling limbs and sidelong eye, 
She stepped into the glade, but proud and high, 
And bold in her white innocence she came 
Before him, wondering at his mighty frame, 
And the fair fashion of his martial dress, 
And gleaming arms, and his great comeliness. 
A space she beamed on him her glorious eyes 
In happiness of heart and mute surprise. 
Then cried, — 

" Ah ! well I know that thou art he 
I saw long syne from out the beechen tree. 
Mine own belov'd that I have kept enshrined 
Within my constant heart and lonely mind ! " 

Said Naisi : " O thou maid, stretch forth thine hand 
That I may feel thy presence warm and bland. 



64 DEIRDRi!. 

That I may think thee not a vision sweet, 

A phantom that mad knights in wildwoods meet ! " 

Then hand met hand ; and, as they touched, great 

fears 
Disturbed her heart, and rose the shining tears 
Into her violet eyes, as well she thought 
How near destruction's sharp brink they were 

brought 
By keeping of their tryst. 

"Alas! alas!" 
She cried, " must Caffa's dread words come to pass, 
And must we two, in our fair youthful bloom, 
For loving of each other meet our doom? 
Speak to me, love ! Am I not all to thee ? " 

Then Naisi's dark eyes lightened lovingly 
Upon her, as he answered, — 

" Thou art mine 
For evermore, belov'd ! And I am thine 



THE FLIGHT FROM EMAN. 65 

For evermore ; and whether we may shun 
Our doom or not, our hearts, O love, are one 
In life or death ! " 

Then from her forehead fair 
She brushed a silken ripple of bright hair 
That from the flood of her rich tresses stole. 
And looked with wordless love into his soul, 
And said, — ■ 

" Now, Naisi, I can bear the worst, — 
Death in its many shaj^es, the desert's thirst, 
The dungeon's hunger, or the burning stake, 
Unfearing and unflinching for thy sake ! " 

Then Naisi straightened high his martial form, 
And with love's ardor grew his heart full warm 
And sanguine that all things were fair and 

good. 
And there, as in that sunny glade they stood, 
i^U-beautiful they seemed as glorious Nied, 
Che War-God, and his ever-blooming bride, 



66 BEIRBRk. 

Bava, within the heaven beyond the hills ! 

And now forgetting all the pains and ills 

That threatened them, they talked of love 

alone, 
Heart unto heart, till nigh their hour had flown, 
And from their fond dream they awoke. Again 
She thought of all the peril and the pain 
And woe and desolation that should fall 
Upon herself, on Naisi, and on all, 
Because she could not love the King, and how, 
Some dreadful day of days, with truthful brow 
To tell the King that she did love him not, 
That with young Naisi she had cast her lot, 
For ever and for ever, hap what might ! 
And Naisi saw the quenching of the light 
Within her eyes at the recurring thought, 
And said, — 

"From this sweet hour our fate is wrought. 
And we are linl^ed in one, and have achieved 
The end we wished for, that our souls believed 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 67 

Would never come, — O love, we two have met ! 
Then cast all fear aside and black regret 
Unto these wandering winds that whisper by. 
For what care you, O maid, and what care I, 
For danger in our all-absorbing love ? " 

Then with her fears young Deirdre's bosom strove 
A moment, and away the dark thoughts fled ; 
And he looked in her trusting eyes, and said, — 

" O love, beyond King Connor's boundaries 

There stretch broad kingdoms, and great billowy 

seas 
Murmur in many winds, and we can fly, 
And refuge take beneath some foreign sky. 
If the worst comes ; and Ainli, Ardan, brave, 
My brothers, with us too will cross the wave 
In our strong-masted galleys, whose white sails 
Spread their broad sheets to Moyle's tempestuous 

gales. 



68 DEIRDRE. 



Far, far away unto some gallant shore 
Where Danger lurks and Valor stalks before, 
Where we will cross wild mountains, moors, and 

fords, 
And conquer some great kingdom with our swords ! 
And there, O Deirdr^ ! we shall wear the crown 
And drink our fill of love and earth's renown, 
And tread our own glad halls by wrath unbanned, 
Far from the vengeance of King Connor's hand 1 " 

They parted, and she sought her palace home ; 
While Naisi lingered, with glad heart to roam 
The glades awhile, and thought no eyes could 

see 
Their trysting 'neath the bloomy wildwood tree. 

Yet on that trysting glared a savage look 
From out the tangled brake beside the brook, 
Where like a wounded wolf whose rage is strong 
Close lurked in silence all the mid-day long 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 69 

Maini, a King's son of far Norroway, 
Who dwelt in Eman 'neath King Connor's sway, 
Whose sire and two strong brothers in the fight 
Had fallen 'neath Naisi's sword of matchless might, 
Beyond the surge on Bora's field of gore. 
And now he watched brave Naisi evermore 
Full treacherously, as is the caitiff's wont 
Who fears to meet a brave man at the front, 
But comes behind, and stabs ere he can see. 
Hid in his lies, he watched full warily, 
Nursing his wrath ; as in the woody glen 
The wild-cat walks around its darksome den 
Within some hollow trunk with velvet feet, 
And the great bear, to taste the morning sweet. 
Comes forth beside the lonely-sounding stream ; — 
The wild-cat's voice is mute, his green eyes gleam 
With fury, while the royal bear goes by. 
Unconscious of the small foe lurking nigh ! — 
I So watched he Naisi, and so Naisi went 
'dh ways, unmindful of his discontent 



70 DEIRDR^. 

And deadly hate, and now this noontide fair 

He looked from out the copse with vengeful glare 

Upon the lovers ; and, when all was done, 

Through the gay wildwood 'gan to skulk and run 

From copse to leafy copse, until unseen 

He reached the hero-peopled palace green. 

There with vague hints and nods and looks of bale 

Around bright Eman's green he spread the tale 

Full secret, as when, 'mid the forest, gleams 

A quiet crystal pool, unfed by streams ; 

Silent it lies with all its images 

Of painted blossoms and sky-piercing trees 

And reeds and rocks, till from its oozy bed 

The otter sudden rears his murderous head, 

Looks round a moment on the glassy plain, 

Then turns, and dives and disappears again ; 

Around the spot disturbing wavelets flow 

And to the banks in widening circles go. 

Like the fell otter Maini crept amid 

The palace folk, and in his wiles was hid ; 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 7 1 

Like the wave circles widening as they sprung, 
Spread the black venom of his bitter tongue ! 

Now, when the King returned, his heart was glad, 
For in the North a merry time he had 
With Conal Carna and his joyous cheer, 
Sweet harp and feast and hunting of the deer. 
And now his" thoughts came back unto the maid, 
And in gay garments royally arrayed 
He sought her bower and found no brightening eyes, 
But looks of dread, and tears, and sad replies, 
And knew not what to think, and called apart 
The Seer, and told him of his rankling smart ; 
Whereat the old man shook his hoary head 
And spoke, — 

" O mighty King, when love is dead, 
No art of man can make it bloom again ! " 

And when the" King, 'mong all his glittering train, 
Walked moody 'cross the palace green, he saw 
Two varlets quarrelling their weapons draw, 



72 deirdr£. 

One for Clan Usna, one, for Eman's King ; 
And when he sought the cause of this strange thing 
The glooming brows around a tale could tell 
Whose meaning in his heart he guessed too well. 

Then waxed he full of wrath and threatening 

gloom, 
And with the nobles sought the banquet room 
To drown the rage and rancor of his soul 
With the harp's music and the brightening bowl. 
But vain his wish ; for, as the wine rose high 
And flushed his cheeks, full oft a baleful eye 
He cast on Usna's sons adown the board, 
That told more eloquent than brandished sword 
Of savage vengeance and immortal hate. 
And from that day contention and debate, 
And secret whispers and loud bickerings. 
And hostile glances, and the word that stings 
The bosom and estranges friend from friend, 
Arose in Eman, till the bloody end 



THE FLIGHT FROM EM AN. 73 

Seemed nigh of Maini's plot to slay his foe. 

And as the wild winds o'er the ocean blow 

And fan the rolling surges, so this thing 

Uplashed the rising passions of the King 

Into a threatening storm of fury strong ; 

And gaze met gaze, and wrong succeeded wrong, 

Till in the middle of a windy night 

From the King's palace Usna took its flight, 

The high-souled, noble, loud-war-thundering clan. 

Banner and tent, horse, chariot, maid, and man ! 

And with them Deirdre went, Howe'er 'twas done, 

Within the palace none could tell save one, 

Old Lavarcam, and she with eyes upturned 

Clapped loud her withered hands, and wildly 

mourned. 
With seeming grief and artful-feigned distress, 
The lovers' wicked flight, yet none the less 
From hall and banquet-room she kept away. 
And shunned the moody King for many a day I 

4 



74 DEIRDR^. 



THE WELCOME TO THE MANSION 
OF KETH. 



T TPON the rich verge of the northmost plain 

That owned great Mab and OHld's prosper- 
ous reign, 
And frowning 'gainst a mountain gap whose side 
A great wood robed in all its shaggy pride, 
A fortress stood, the strong-spear-bristling shield 
Of many a hamlet, many a fruitful field. 
That lay around, from Ulad's borderers free, 
And fierce Fomorian rovers of the sea. 
One autumn eve upon the watch-tower height 
Stood the great stronghold's captain, Keth the 

knight. 
And looked with pride upon the realm that lay 
Rich, populous, and fertile 'neath his sway : 



THE MANSION OF KETII. 75 

The merry village with its sheltering trees, 
The peaceful cattle browsing o'er the leas, 
The hardy shepherd whistling on the plain 
With his white flock, by fields of ripened grain 
That lay in golden billows 'neath the hook 
Of the brown reaper. 

By the bubbling brook 
That nigh the strong fort sang its melody. 
With scarlet berries laughed the rowan tree, 
The nuts in clusters from the hazels hung, 
And high and wide the stately oak-tree flung 
Its fretted branches rich with acorns brown ; 
While from a leafless spray anigh its crown, 
A brown thrush sang his song with dulcet throat 
Betimes awakening the glad redbreast's note 
Responsive from its thorny brake whereon 
The blackberries like living garnets shone. 
Nigh on the moor the milkmaids clinked their cans 
And sang their songs, where gleamed the diamond 
vans 



^6 DEIRDR^. 

Of myriad gnats in the sun's slanting beam ; 
And by the borders of the widening stream 
The bog-flax drooped its head of silvery snow, 
And the last iris shone with golden glow, 
And yellow sun-flowers closed their drowsy 

lids. 
While far away the mountains' pyramids, 
Clad in their heathery robes of purple bright, 
Towered heavenward in the rosy sunset light. 

As the knight looked, his heart began to fill 
With gladness at the scene so fair and still ; 
For sweet is peace to him who knoweth war. 
And long he gazed and thought, till from afar, 
Beyond the mountain gap there rose a sound 
Like angry torrents rumbling underground 
Through a deep caverned hill ; then to his ear 
Came a great battle shout distinct and clear 
Rolling along the plain, and, as it rolled. 
The shepherd urged his white flock to the fold, 



THE MANSION OF KETH. 77 

The milkmaids trembling fled, the herding men 
With loud cries drove their cattle to the pen, 
And to their homes the reapers hurried fast. 
Then Keth upon his war-horn blew a blast, 
Whose rolling echoes scarce had died away, 
When round the high walls flashed his stern array 
Of shielded, saffron-kilted soldiery. 
Upon his horn another blast blew he. 
Loud-echoing, ringing shrill, and at the note 
Full many a charger's hoof the pavement smote 
With sounding clang, as on the level space 
Of the broad green the horsemen took their place, 
And charioteers, a bright brass-glittering line 
Whereon the evening cast its dazzling shine, 
Blazing on round-rimmed shield and plumed head, 
And tipping all the spear-points crimson red. 
Proudly he looked upon the gallant show 
Of mail-clad knights upon the sward below. 
And bearded soldiers ranged around the wall ; 
Then on his horn he blew a last long call, 



yS DEIEDR^. 

And at the sound came striding up the stair, 
Brass-panoplied, his henchman, Brann the Fair, 
Crying, " Brann the Henchman here to do thy best ! " 
And as a host who meets a well-loved guest 
With fair face smiling, Keth began to say, — 

" O Brann, dost hear the thunder of the fray 
Beyond the pass ? — Was ever earthly nook 
Free a life's span from War's keen pruning-hook ? 
Yes ! by my hand of valor ! Ours shall be 
From plundering foes and war's red carnage free, 
While I can wield the sword that dealeth death ! — 
But hark ! I hear the war-horn's stormy breath 
Making the still eve shudder with its blare, 
Telling that all is ready!" 

Down the stair. 
With tall Brann clattering in his harness bright, 
Unto his lordly chamber went the knight 
To arm himself. Thence in his garb of war 
Glittering he strode unto his armed car, — 



TEE MANSION OF KETH. 79 

His great war-chariot with its coal-black steeds 
Sleek from sweet corn and grass of flowery meads 
Danonian ; then he mounted, while the rein 
Brann took in his strong hand, and then amain 
The great knight's voice like a loud trumpet pealed 
Along the bristling ranks, and fast they wheeled, 
Chariots and horsemen, with loud thundering clang 
That round the high piled earthen ballium rang, 
And through the rattling gateway of th6 Dun 
Stone-splintering, dust-revolving, out they spun ! 

There rose a mound anear the hollow pass, 
Tufted with trees and green with emerald grass, 
Whereby the path ran winding, — from whose 

crest 
The shaggy gorge lay open to the east, 
And to its breezy summit sped the knight 
With his fierce followers to o'erlook the fight. 
High swelled the hero's mighty heart to see 
Beneath him, in the sun, gleam radiantly 



8o deikdr£. 

A strong band marching towards him, with their 

spears 
CircUng a throng of restless charioteers 
And steeds, and rumbUng chariots that bare 
The matrons, children, and the maidens fair 
Of a great tribe, and, like the costly gem 
That sparkles on a king's gay diadem, 
Amidst them all a gilded chariot drawn 
By two white steeds. Then far o'er brake and lawn. 
Where oped the deep gorge on the outward plain. 
He saw the stubborn fight where still the rain 
Of arrows clattered thick, and where the dead 
Lay thick beneath o'er many a green glade spread, 
For there, victorious, yet another band 
Of warriors lifted high the gory hand, 
Pursuing of their foes that, scattered wide, 
'Neath sword and shaft and brazen javelin died ! 

Now when the nearer band slow marching wound 
Out from the devious valley towards the mound, 



THE MANSION OF KETH. 



And still drew nearer, the Connacian knight 
Saw that the chariot with the steeds of white 
Bore two young damsels garmented in green 
And saffron robes, sitting with mournful mien 
Beside a queenly lady fresh and young. 
Lovelier than e'er by mortal bard was sung. 
Drooping she sat, with elbow on her knee 
And sad face on her hand dejectedly; 
And oft she sighed, and oft the silent tears 
Welled from her large blue eyes, for full of fears 
And lorn she looked, as '£. her anxious mind 
Dwelt on some well-beloved one behind 
In the fierce battle wrack. 

Before the band 
Two spear-lengths, with a look of high command 
And battle's flame still burning in his eye, 
A young knight strode, whose head two hand- 
breadths high 
O'ertopped his followers' heads, with locks of brown 
'Over his golden gorget curling down, 

4* F 



82 DEIBDRi:. 

And firm-set mouth, and sun-tanned swarthy skin, 
And beard of ruddy brown on lip and chin. 
Haughty he strode and looked. As he came on, 
Fierce in his mighty panoply he shone 
Of high-ridged brazen helm and linked mail, 
That oft had cast aside the rattling hail 
Of arrows from his broad breast and great heart ; 
Of orbed shield that, wrought with curious art, 
In gold work on its field for blazon wore 
The semblance of a mighty forest boar 
Rushing with bristling back from out his den, 
Deep in the wood, on struggling dogs and men ; 
Of ponderous sword hung low upon his thigh. 
Whose huge hilt sparkled like a starlit sky 
With many a gem ; of spear whose dreadful blade. 
All battle-notched, of swarthy bronze was made, 
Whose tapering shaft in beauty once bloomed bright 
A fair young ash by old Ardsalla's height, — 
Oft 'mid its green leaves in the happy spring 
Did the winds whisper and the wild-birds sing, 



THE MANSION OF KETH. 83 

Oft 'neath its shadow on the daisied grass 

The lovers fond their bHssful hours would pass, — 

Now — hapless change! — instead of leaves and 

buds 
Gleamed rings and brazen clasps and silver studs, 
And that terrific blade wherefrom the blood, 
As down the echoing path the hero strode, 
Still dript upon the shaft with ruddy hue. 
And when anigh the mound the hero drew, 
Halting his band, he strode a step more nigh, 
And bent on Keth the knight his fearless eye, 
And said, — 

" O princely man of bright array, 
Stand you as friend for friend to guard the way 
With your strong-shielded men ? If you do not, 
Then speak, that, while our battle blood is hot. 
We may acquit us, as our need demands. 
Against your might, like good men of our hands ! " 

Then Keth made answer stoutly: "We oppose 
Into this land the coming of all foes 



84 DEIRDRiJ. 

To royal Mab and Olild. Peace is here 
Throughout this fertile plain by sword and spear 
Well guarded, and all rovers must beware 
That death may bar their entrance." 

High in air 
The stranger raised his mighty brass-bound spear, 
And turned him round, and with loud voice and 

clear 
Spoke to his followers their tall files to close : 
Then hoarse on either side a tumult rose 
Of hostile preparation, like the roar 
Of winds in piney woods, or on the shore 
The sound of waves remurmuring in the night ! 
And stern beside the mound had raged the fight 
'Tween these strong bands of heroes, had not she, 
That lady fair, descended tremblingly 
From the bright car and through the bristling 

files 
Glided with weary step and tearful smiles 
Unto her champion's side, and spoke, — 

" O thou. 



THE MANSION OF KETH. 85 

Brave brother of my heart, this angry brow 
Why wear'st thou? See yon kingly man. His 

face 
Of wrath or hostile purpose hath no trace. 
Poise back thy spear, and speak to him and tell 
Thy name and kin, and whatsoe'er befell 
To us upon our peril-haunted way 
Unto his land. Perchance this closing day 
Through him may find us rest a little while ! " 

Upon the champion's face there beamed a smile 
Of kindness as he answered, " For thy sake, 
O sister fair, my strong resolve I break 
To fight my way into yon fertile plain." 

Then to Keth turning, thus he spoke again : 
" O man of noble port and regal eye ! 
My name is Ardan, of the lineage high 
Of Usna ; and this lady young and bright 
Is Deirdr<b, wife of Naisi, the good knight, 



86 DEIRDR^. 

My brother. If you look beyond the pass, 

And hear the shouts and see the gleam of brass, 

There he and Ainli with our valiant clan 

Fight Eman's men, and conquer, man to man ! — 

Twelve times the silver moon full-orbed hath shone 

From the blue heavens our perilous path upon. 

And twelve times waned, since that dread fateful 

hour 
We reft from Eman's King this loveliest flower 
Of all bright beauty and sweet womanhood. 
And many a weary day by field and flood 
And broad stream-runnelled plain, since that wild 

night. 
We saw ; for when we clomb the northmost height \ 
Above a bay where Moyle with foamy lips 
Kisses the rock-strewn beach, we saw our ships 
Far blazing ; for the King's host, first to gain 
The way before us, reached that troublous main 
And fired them swift. Then west by north we 

turned, 
For the bold hopes that in our bosoms burned 



THE MANSION OF KETH. 87 

To reach fair Alba's shore were dead and gone ; 
And from hot dayhght's glare to starhght wan 
No rest, no safety, no strong shield, we knew, 
Save in the valiant swords we manful drew 
From moon to moon, by blood-stained ford and glen 
And treacherous pass, against King Connor's men. 
And many a faithful heart behind we left 
By ford and hollow pass, of life bereft ; 
But we had friends, and many a well-armed man 
Joined us by secret ways and swelled our clan, 
So that the King's men, fighting day by day, 
Had all they wished of sword and javelin play. 
And turned them from our dangerous path of gore 
One wild March morn, anigh the murmuring shore 
Where Torry's wave the mainland leaps upon. 
There in a bay the fluttering ensigns shone 
Of the Fomorian King, from his tall fleet 
Of black-hulled galleys that from feet to feet 
Of two high headlands shadowed all the wave. 
And thereunto a man we sent, to crave 



88 DEIRDR£. 



Of the Fomorian passage o'er the sea 
To Alba's friendly shore ; but scarce had he, 
Our herald, trod the King's broad ship and said 
His message, when we saw his hoary head 
Lopped from his shoulders, and his bleeding 

trunk 
Tossed from the poop and in the green sea sunk, 
For answer ! Then each warrior drew his blade. 
And on its hilt our vow of vengeance made ; 
And like a troop of wolves whose greedy eyes. 
Sparkling with famine's fire, behold their prize, 
Long sought for, safe within the high-walled pen. 
Guarded by watchful dogs and well-armed men, — 
Furious they rush for other pens and folds ! — 
By wild untrodden ways, by hills and wolds, 
Bravely we strove our fortunes to renew ; 
Fighting for bread the weary summer through, 
Till on this eve, anigh thy peaceful plain 
The King's host fell upon us once again. 
Thou see'st the rest. We want but sleep and food ! " 



THE MANSION OF KETH. 89 

Then Deirdre spoke : " I augur nought but good, 

mighty prince, from thee, for in thine eyes 

1 see the thoughts that from thy great heart rise ; 
And thou wilt succor us, for we have dreed 
Great misery, and sore hath been our need ; 
And we are weary, struggling mile by mile ; 
And I would fain get rest a little while ! " 

Then Keth : " Within our mighty high-walled dun 

Are many mansions, and the brightest one 

Of all shall be thy home, O lady fair, 

To rest awhile and feel contentment there. 

And thou, good knight and bold, thy brothers brave 

And valiant clan no more a home shall crave, 

While on my hearth the crackling fagots glow, 

While I have lands and honors to bestow, 

And in gay Cruchaun Mab and Olild reign." 

Therewith he bade an old knight of his train 

Adown the dusty way to lead them on, 

And give them rest and welcome in the Dun. 



90 DEIRDR^. 

Now sank the sun upon his ocean bed 
In a great blaze of gold and purple red, 
And rose the moon and lit with paly ray 
Between two forked hills the landscape gray, 
'And all the shrill sounds of the long daylight 
Seemed muffled 'neath the drowsy plumes of 

night. 
Still on the mound stood Keth, and through the 

gloom 
With sharp eyes tried to pierce the valley's womb ; 
For he had sent a warrior of the band 
To bid the Usnanians welcome to his land. 
And there abode their coming. Like the bells 
Of cattle sounding from the twilight fells, 
Unto his ear the clink of harness came ; 
Then sudden burst into the moon's pale flame 
From round a clump of trees the mighty clan, 
Their silken banner fluttering in the van 
With the great Osprey worked in gold thereon ; — 
Far spread or serried thick they glimmering shone, 



THE MANSION OF KETII. 9 1 

Where'er the moon ht up the open glades, 
Gleaming on harness, shields and swords, and 

blades 
Of brazen javelins, changing momently 
Like the pale star-beams on a troubled sea. 

Straight as two spear-shafts on that front of pride, 

Strode the two noble brothers side by side : 

Dark Naisi in his heavy panoply 

Of brass and gold ; young Ainli to his knee 

Robed in a saffron tunic, battle-rent. 

That showed beneath the mail shirt, blood besprent 

From a fresh wound o'er his strong shoulder-blade 

By some deft weapon in the battle made. 

Yet stout and cheerily he strode along, 

Blithe as a bridegroom at the marriage song ; 

His tawny hair beneath his helmet's rim 

Like pale gold shining in the moonlight dim. 

His spear upraised and shield advanced, whereon 

The semblance of the fighting Hill-Cat shone : 



92 DEIRDR^. 

Onward they came, the while with measured tread 
Their strong host seemed to shake the valley's bed ; 
As when in hot July, when grass is green, 
In a great dell Ben-Beola's Paps between, 
A mighty herd of mountain kine comes there. 
Led by their bulls, and graze the pastures bare, 
Till from high slope to slope no blade they find. 
And scents of fresher meads come on the wind. 
And sleep or waking no contentment brings. 
And noon smites hot and sharp the gadfly stings ; 
Away they rush where'er their monarchs lead 
By savage tracks unto the untrodden mead. 
And from some hollow gap amid the hills 
Burst bellowing on that meadowy place of rills ; 
So from the gorge, and with a thundering sound. 
The Usnanian host drew near the grassy mound, 
And raised a shout that rent the moonlit sky, 
To answer Keth's kind voice as they went by ! 

Within Keth's merry mansions they abode 
While August's suns upon the green hills glowed. 



THE MANSION OF KETII. 93 

And all their cares, their hardships and distress, 
Seemed now forgotten in their happiness. 
And there upon a glad September morn 
Within the Dun young Deirdre's babe was 

born, 
A lovely man child, and they called him Gaeir. 
And from the youthful mother, blooming fair 
As a young rose-tree that in garden bowers 
Puts forth in early June its tender flowers. 
All grief departed, and the sweet content. 
The bliss maternal by the good Gods sent, 
O'erfiUed her heart, as her admiring eyes 
Beheld her hope, her glory, and her prize, 
Her pearl of all the earth, her little boy. 
Laugh on her lap in his awakening joy ! 

One morn as Naisi by the stronghold's gate 
Walked up and down, deep thinking of his state, 
He heard of horsehoofs the approaching din, 
And saw the royal herald dashing in. 



94 DEIRDB^. 

With his fierce escort spurring close behind, 
Their long cloaks fluttering in the morning wind. 
Straight to Keth's open door the herald sped, 
Sprang from his steed, and then with stately tread 
Went to the chamber, where he told the knight 
News from the Queen, of war, — how on each height 
Of Ulad, northward to Moyle's roaring sea. 
The far-seen beacons blazed incessantly 
For gathering of the tribes, that Eman's King 
'Gainst Mab and Olild a great host might bring 
For harboring of the proud Usnanian clan. 
And soon around the Dun the rumor ran ; 
And Naisi heard it soon, and went straightway 
Unto his host, with grateful heart to say, — 

" O Prince, for all the joy and happiness 

Thou gav'st us in our need and sore distress 

We thank thee as brave men should thank the 

brave ! 
But how can we, Ultonians, draw the glaive 



THE MANSION OF KETII. 95 

Of anger 'gainst our kinsmen ? How can we 
Give both fair kingdoms to war's misery ? 
No ! Send the Queen's good herald back again, 
And tell her Usna's sons are fearless men, 
In whose high hearts the flower of Honor glows 
Untarnished through all perils, joys, and woes. 
No ! There are other lands where valor brings 
Increase of honor and rewards of Kings ; 
And we will seek them, that our noble name 
May scape the infamy and during shame 
Of kindling in our quarrel War's red fires 
Between you and the kingdom of our sires ! " 



96 DEIRDR^. 



THE CAPTURE OF THE FOMORIAN 
GALLEYS. 



"V TEXT morn, with friendly partings many a one, 
They left the stronghold, and the rising sun 
Looked with a kindly eye on their array, 
As far they wound upon their westward way. 
And with no craven bosoms did they go. 
Seeking deliverance, weeping, from their woe, 
But with high hearts of youthful hope and pride 
That knew not fear, and danger's frown defied. 
Onward they marched in their best bravery, 
Till on the fifth fair eve the far-off sea 
Appeared between two hills to heaven outrolled, 
Resplendent 'neath the sunset's burning gold. 



THE FOMOniAN GALLEYS. 9/ 

Beneath an oak-wood's boughs they camped that 

night, 
And at the first gleam of the morning light 
Bestirred themselves, and lit their fires, and made, 
With lively hum beneath the leafy shade, 
Their meal of wild-boar chines, — a goodly cheer, — 
And quern-ground wheat, and flesh of forest deer 
And wine and sparkling water. Then they rose, 
And struck their tents, and, thick as corn that grows 
Wind-waven on the long ridge after rain. 
Glittered their spear-points, as they marched again 
Into the great gap 'mid the hills whercthro' 
The first bright ocean glimpse had met their view. 

At noon they cleared the pass, and saw the main 

Smooth gleaming to the far-off skies again. 

Beyond a level tract wherein a bay 

Curved towards them, all its sunny waves at play 

With the sweet winds, as if in mockery 

Of man's fell wrath and madness raging nigh ; — 

5 G 



98 DEIRDR^. 

Nigh on the shore, where from a burning town 
The smoke clouds rolled away o'er dale and down, 
Where red before the Usnanians' wondering gaze 
In forkM tongues uprose the ravenous blaze ; — 
Whence on the soft breeze came the sounds of woe, 
Now rising high and shrill, now falling low, 
Heart-rending as the ululations drear 
Of a great tribe around its chieftain's bier ! 

Then shook the ground beneath the forward tread 
Of Usna's host, as towards the town they sped 
With high hope-burning hearts, — the mighty 

Three 
Striding before their front ranks manfully, 
Their shields advanced, until their armed feet 
Plashed through the fresh blood on the ruined street, 
Where scattered far the slaughtered people lay, 
Maid, mother, father, child and grandsire gray ; — 
Where all around beneath the smoke clouds dim 
The ruined walls loomed up all black and grim, — 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 99 

Wherein through rose-bright lattices the sun 
Looked with glad beams the household folk upon, 
Smiling upon their matin revelling, 
Unweeting what the dreadful noon would bring ! 
And now as up the street the host had come 
With vengeful pity and strange wonder dumb, 
Young Deirdre from her car that sight of bale 
Marked with tear-streaming eyes and cheeks all pale, 
And, with protecting arms full closely pressed. 
Clasped her dear little son to her fond breast, 
Hiding him 'neath her mantle's crimson fold : 
While like a fierce bear of the savage wold, 
That turns hijii in the evening's solitude 
Unto his den, and finds his woolly brood 
And faithful mate dead 'neath the hunter's lance 
And weltering yet in gore ; with dreadful glance 
He stalks around and snuffs the tainted air. 
Now growling stern, now darting here and there 
His red eye searching for his mortal foe, — 
So Naisi in his wrath strode to and fro, 



lOO DEIRDR^. 

Now gazing on the dead, now through the wrack 

Burning to find the fell destroyer's track ; 

Till as his dark eyes wandered fiercely round, 

Beneath a ruined porch a man he found 

Old, wounded, with his back projjped 'gainst the 

wall, 
And thus the aged carle : — 

" O champion tall, 
I hail thee, for with dying eyes I see 
Our strong avenger thou shalt surely be ! 
Long were the people of my name and race 
Happy in this now hapless, woful place ; 
For we were traders inland folk between 
And the blithe Rovers of the ocean green, 
Protected, happy, till last eventide 
Some men of Talc came in their cruel pride 
Into our town, from where their pirate sails 
Are yonder furled, safe from September gales, 
Beyond the hill-ridge in a sheltered bay. 
Into the town they came, and with wild fray 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. lOI 

And riot filled the street, and stabbed the son 

Of Elim our good chieftain, whereupon 

We rose and slew them. Then the wrath was hot 

Of him whose varlets fierce we spared not, 

Fomorian Talc, the cruel pirate King, 

Whose spears have ceased not yet their glittering 

In yonder pass. He came. Thou see'st the rest ! " 

Down drooped the old man's head upon his breast, 

And to the Gods his fierce soul cleft the sky ! 

And Naisi looked, and with dark threatening eye 

Beheld afar, two rocky hills between. 

Of spears and harnessed backs the moving sheen 

Waveward receding, and right joyfully 

Struck his great shield and cried, " 'Tis he ! 'tis he! 

Fomorian Talc, the pirate King, who gave 

Our herald's headless trunk unto the wave. 

That slew this people ! — Kindred, follow me ! " 

He turned, and with a roar full vengefully 
The warriors followed his long strides, all fain 



102 DEIRDRS. 

For battle, marching 'cross the shoreside plain 
And 'tween the hills, until they gained a height 
Green-swarded, flat-topped, and with coast flowers 

bright. 
And sloping to the sea strand. Opposite, 
Far as a bow-shaft in its flight could hit, 
Arose an island, sea-disparted, steep, 
With two long arms outstretched upon the deep, 
Enclosing a bright bay whose shining mouth 
Oped to the gentle breezes of the south. 
Between the flat-topped hillock and the bound 
Of the rough isle there lay a shallow sound 
Whose waters at the neap-tide rose less high 
Than the swarth mail-rings on a warrior's thigh ; 
And as the Usnanians looked across its tide. 
Before them on the wild isle's hither side, 
Dread sentinel o'er land and restless sea, 
Frowned the Fomorian stronghold gloomily; 
While in the sheltered elbow of the bay 
Their black-hulled galleys at the anchor lay, 



THE FOMOIUAN GALLEYS. 103 

Numerous ; as when to some wild island shore 

Of Thule from the north the gannets pour 

At breeding time, and strike the arch that spans 

The earth and ocean with their whirring vans. 

Till settling slowly down upon the deep 

They fold their wings, and, rocked in dreamless sleep, 

Lie in close pack upon the swelling wave, 

So lay the ships. Of hempen coil and stave, 

Torn from the ribs of many a stranded bark, 

A palisade along the neap-tide mark 

Ran by the sound and up the island shore. 

Circling the hold. Through this tall fence a door, 

Grim with strong bar and boss and seamed with 

spray. 
For the Fomorian rear-guard open lay. 

Upon the height the Usnanians now upraised 
The Osprcy. Brightly in the sun he blazed 
On his gay silken field ; then tent by tent, 
They pitched their ready camp, and eager went 



I04 DEIRDR^. 

To the height's verge and looked across its tide 
To view their foes. Now either host descried 
The other, and from their strong hearts gave forth 
A hostile shout ; as when, from out the north, 
The Wind-God sends his blasts against an isle 
Shaggy with oak and birch for many a mile ; 
Fiercely they rise, and on their foamy path 
Fan the wild billows into rage and wrath, 
And scourge the isle till all its tossing trees 
Find tongues of thunder roaring winds and seas 
Defiance, while the winds and seas reply 
Booming along the shore : so rose the cry 
'Tween bitter host and host ; — from isle and height 
Flashed all their brandished spears and harness 

bright 
With dreadful flame ; and hill and hollow shore 
Gave back the warlike din ! 

Now rose once more 
The voice of Naisi : " O ye faithful hearts ! 
The thought that thrills the soul, the tear that starts 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 105 

Into a true man's eye, come back to me 
When I think on your deathless constancy. 
Great were our needs and trouble, greater yet 
The glorious task to-morrow's end will set 
For our brave hands of valor to achieve. 
Ah ! whatsoever meshes Fate may weave 
Around a man whose will is stern and strong, 
Her tangles bind around him, but not long : 
The Fate-compeller, his hard hand of toil 
Nerved by his valiant heart, will burst the coil. 
The small white kernel in the woodland nut, 
Within its fibrey shell of hardness shut. 
When Spring returns, the life within, awake 
With Nature's strength, its prison walls will break 
To light and bloom ! So we. Ah, what a ring 
Fate tightened round us since the wrathful King 
Pursued us with his vengeance ; yet our hands 
In each sore trial broke its circling bands 
With inborn valor, till on this fair place 
We stand with our deliverance face to face. 
5* 



io6 DEIRDR£. 

Fear not the end, for all that, earth contains 

Is in the brave man's grasp who fear disdains ; 

And ere a second sun shall gild the flowers, 

Yon fleet of pirate galleys shall be ours, 

To sail the sea to Alba's pleasant shore 

Where the King's wrath can trouble us no more ! " 

And all that day they rested. Night came on, 
And o'er the hostile camps the pale moon shone 
Stilly and bright, and 'cross the silent sea 
From Usna's hill oft rose wild minstrelsy. 
While answering from the isle came savage songs 
With clash of cymbals and barbaric gongs, 
And frequent jest and gibe, and laugh of scorn 
And the low grumbling of the guttural horn ; 
Till, nigh the third watch, over isle and hill 
Deep slumber settled down, and all was still. 

Now in the lonely hour when with her ray 
The moon o'er ocean trailed a shimmering way 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 107 

That the bright Spirit-folk to heaven might take, 
A voice struck Naisi's ear and bade him wake. 
Sudden he woke and wondering, to behold, 
Beneath the couch's furs and cloth of gold, 
His wife beside him wrapt in sleep serene. 
And 'mid the pillows, in the moony sheen. 
His little boy with wild eyes weird and bright 
Laughing and crowing loud in huge delight, 
With dimpled arms outstretched all silvered o'er 
By moonbeams from the calm tent's open door. 
As if some god-like Presence none could see 
With kindly wiles there woke his infant glee ! 
There Naisi looked, and filled with sudden awe 
A mighty sword beside its scabbard saw 
Stuck two good span-lengths in the grassy earth, 
And bright as though the moon had given it birth 
And cast it flashing down to where it stood 
Within the tent-door, glorying in her flood 
Of silver light. Then back in calm repose 
The strong babe sank, and, wildcrcd, Naisi rose 



I08 DEIRDRi;. 

And bent above the weapon, marvelling 
If mortal hand e'er forged so fair a thing. 
And as with curious eyes the hero gazed 
On the gold hilt that bright with diamonds blazed, 
A spirit voice through his whole being ran, 
That seemed to say, " The gift of Mananan ! 
Take it, and fear not ! " Then with eager hand 
He grasped the hilt, and plucked the dazzling 

brand 
From the soft earth, and from the tent withdrew 
Into the light, and looked with wonder new 
On the great blade whereon was pictured 
All shapes that live and move in Ocean's bed. 
Long time he gazed upon its mimic sea. 
Then whirled the weapon round full joyously 
O'er his proud head in circles of bright flame 
That made the night breeze whistle as it came. 

He stood and paused ; stole softly to the tent ; 
Donned his strong garb of war, and musing went 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 109 

Down the smooth hill-side to the glassy sound, 
And halted on the shore and gazed around 
On rugged isle and smooth white-tented hill, 
And moonlit shore, that lay all cold and still, 
Sleeping as though they ne'er would wake again 
To life and morning and the sea-lark's strain. 
And, as he looked, a breeze blew on his face, 
Perfumed with scents from all the lovely race 
Of flowers that blossom by the windy sea, — 
The fragrant pink, the wild anemone, 
The armed thistle ere its head grows old 
And the winds blow its beard across the wold, 
The foxglove, heather, and sweet-smelling thyme, — 
Yea, all the flowers, from north to southland clime 
That meet the morn with smiles, their odors sent, 
With the fresh salty smell of ocean blent, 
On that strange breeze that, waxing momently. 
Fulfilled the hero with wild ecstasy 
Of heart and brain, as though his footsteps fell 
In heaven 'mid meadows of sweet asphodel ! 



no DEIRDR^. 

And now, as stronger still the breeze blew by, 
The sound's clear water caught the hero's eye : 
Moveless it gleamed, with not one wave to show 
That o'er its surface that weird breeze could blow. 
Whereat great wonder filled hira. To a tree, 
That grew behind on the declivity 
Of the green height, he turned : no motion there 
Of branch or leaf ; — not even his own dark hair 
Was lifted by the marvellous wind. Around 
Again the hero turned, and with a bound 
Of his strong heart, and tingling cheeks all warm 
From the fresh blood, beheld the giant form 
Of a huge warrior, clad in sea-green mail. 
Standing upon the shore. The flowing sail 
Of a great bark appeared his cloak ; the spray 
That dances with the morning winds at play, 
Topmost o'er all the woods on Scraba's elm, 
Seemed the tall plume that waved above his helm, 
While like a sj^ire he stood, upon the sand 
His long spear resting, towering from his hand 



THE FOMOniAN GALLEYS. Ill 

As a great larch's shaft in Ara's dell. 

Silent he stood, the while his glances fell 

On the Fomorian gate. A shadow vast 

Betimes he seemed, wherethro' the moonbeams 

passed 
With shimmering glow, or in his mantle caught, 
Or linked mail, to Naisi's vision brought 
Strange shifting shapes of all the things that be, 
Living or dead, within the crystal sea ! 

Slowly he turned him round and bent his gaze 
On Naisi. As the moon smiles o'er the haze 
Of silvery splendor that some silent night 
Of autumn robes the hill-ridge, kind and bright 
The god-like Spectre smiled, till Usna's son 
Felt the warm blood in tingling currents run 
With rapture to the marrow of his bones. 
Then with high-rising heart and prayerful tones 
He spoke the Sea-god : " O thou, IMananan ! 
Friend of my race through many a century's span, 



112 DEIRDR^. 



Since the first day their swelUng sails they spread 

To the Hght winds o'er Ocean's billowy bed ! — - 

O mighty Sea-god ! loud we call to thee 

For help in this our dread extremity ! 

We ask thee not for valor ; valor still 

Is Usna's birthright, and the daring will 

To do great deeds : but some strong sign of power, 

Some portent for the battle's coming hour, 

We ask of thee, O Patron great and kind ! " 

No voice replied, yet in his conscious mind 

He felt these words : " Dare fortune thus and win ! " 

Then saw the towering Spectre striding in, — 

Into the middle of the sound that lay 

Calm at its lowest ebb. The shining ray 

Of moonlight showed the spear then poised on 

high, 
And from the Spectre's hands loud whirring fly 
'Gainst the Fomorian gate, until it found 
The midmost plank ; then with a direful sound 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. II3 

Door, jamb and bolt, disparted, inward fell, 
Sharp thundering ; as in Dargle's ancient dell, 
At the weird silent hour when Mother Night 
Spreads her wide wings with pulsing stars all bright 
From pole to pole, brooding o'er land and sea 
With matron care for her great family 
Of men and beasts and birds, and things that creep, 
Or swim the wave, till all are hushed in sleep, — 
Amidst the lull an aged oak-tree falls. 
Hoarse rumbling down the wild dell's rocky walls 
With deafening crash into the torrent's bed, — 
The wood, upstarting, wakens all adread, 
The scared birds' flapping wings and chattering jar, 
And wild beasts' howls, are heard from near and far 
Throughout the dell ; so rose the dreadful clang 
Of the great spear against the gate, and rang 
From isle to height ; the camps awoke ; each man 
Grasped at his arms and to the muster ran, 
Shouting his hostile challenge as he went ! — 
Then Naisi on the height his keen eyes bent 

H 



114 DEIRDRE. 



A moment ; when he turned, the waters wan 
Far shivering lay, the mighty Shade was gone 
In silence as he came ; — a monstrous wave 
Upheaved its broad gray back, and murmuring drave 
Along the sound from answering shore to shore, 
While clear and sweet, commingling with its roar, 
Came sounds of blowing conch and breathing shell, 
And of all things that on the ocean swell 
Follow the mariner's bark with omens glad, — 
The wheeling sea-fowl and the dolphin mad 
With the keen zest of life ; then silence came, 
And the young Dawn arose in ruby flame ! 

Fair cleared the morn, yet slow the hours went by 
That saw the sound's clear waters rising high 
To that still point between the ebb and flow, 
When the soft rack of seaweed, trailing slow, 
Uncertain seemed of restless ocean's will, 
Whether to go or come. From isle and hill 
Full many a fierce eye watched the dubious weed, 
Eager, till oceanward it 'gan recede 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 1 15 

Along the calm sound, like the food-gorged snake 
That through the meadowy grass its way doth take, 
Slow seeking, green and long, the forest wide. 
And now the mid-day fires on either side 
Upflung their curling smoke, and meal-time passed, 
For many a valiant man of meals the last ; 
And the great sun 'gan take his downward way 
To cool his burning brow in ocean's spray. 
Lengthening the mountain shadows ; while the 

sound, 
Still sinking foot by foot, at twilight found 
The Usnanian and Fomorian face to face 
Embattled, ready for the dreadful race 

\ Into each other's arms, whose clasp is death 
Or victory. 

Now the wind with stronger breath 
Blew from the east great fleecy clouds that veiled 
The stars and rising moon as on they sailed 
Across the wide-spread heaven. The brothers now 

^ Stood by the tent upon the green height's brow ; 



Il6 DEIRDRA'. 

Naisi with face against his young wife's face, 
And arms around her in a fond embrace 
At parting ; Ardan, Ainli, standing near, 
Each leaning on his yellow-bladed spear, 
Watching with bleeding heart the efforts vain 
Of Deirdre to control the cruel pain 
That tore her breast. No words dark Naisi 

said, 
But to her brazen chair his sad wife led 
Before the tent, and kissed his little son 
And placed him on her lap ; then one by one 
Looked in his brothers' eyes with steadfast look. 
That half of high-souled confidence partook, 
And half anxiety for what might chance 
To each and all in the fell fight. One glance, — 
One yearning glance of love on child and wife, — 
And he was gone. 

Now for the dreadful strife. 
Young Ainli took the left: the rightward wing 
With hearts of fire heard Ardan's harness ring. 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 11/ 

As to the front he strode ; a moonlight beam 
Fell upon Naisi's arms with sudden gleam 
Before the central battle, while he gave 
The word of onset. As the long reeds wave 
With a great noise round Maga's glimmering meres 
Before the storm's first blast, so waved the spears 
Of Usna, when with loud-resounding tread 
The host advanced : and as from Canity's head, 
When from the south the thawing March winds 

blow, 
With loosened rocks and earth the piled-up snow 
Of winter rushes into Bala's lake 
j With a great roar that all the hills doth shake, 
j So rattling loud, so thundering in their might, 
I Close packed they moved, and from the echoing 
', height 

Dashed headlong in their fury. High was tost 
j The spray before their tall knees, as they crossed 

The shallow sound ; while, as the starlings rise 
I From the autumnal fields and shade the skies 



ii8 deirdr£. 

With countless wings whirring upon the wind, 

So rose the Fomor's arrows from behind 

The palisade in clouds, and bit and clashed 

On shield and brazen mail : yet forward dashed 

The Usnanians, still unbroken, undismayed, 

Till 'tween the tough ribs of the palisade 

Some crossed the spear shaft with their stubborn 

foes. 
Some on the woven fence rained blows on blows 
Of sounding battle-axe and bitter sword ! 
Then fast the archers and the slingers poured 
Their missiles inward, till the mighty cry 
Of battle tore unto the clouded sky, 
Wherefrom the moon would gleam betimes and 

show 
The blood-stained water, and the fitful glow 
Of brandished weapons and opposing shields 
Along that ridge of death where no man yields, — 
The dauntless heart, the coward, or the base, — 
Save to the grisly King whom all must face ! 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. II9 

Now from the leftward wing a mighty yell 
On Naisi's watchful ear triumphant fell ; — 
There Ainli, first to gain the foeman's pale, 
Felt the light arrows smite his shield and mail ; 
And like a fierce young bull whose brindled flanks 
The hunters gore by Lara's reedy banks 
In the far wild, till with loud bellowing roar 
And tail outstretched he scours along the shore, 
Charging his foes, so Ainli, when the flight 
Of shafts first clashed against his harness bright, 
Rushed forward shouting, and confronted there — 
The fence between them — grim-browed Adamair, 
Lord of Hebridean isles, who muttering low 
Cast a huge javelin at his youthful foe. 
Nimbly young Ainli leapt aside : the spear, 
Thirsting for heroes' blood, whizzed by his ear, 
Glanced from a rock, and then rebounded high, 
Still whizzing, half across the sound to fly 
Ere in the brine it splashed. Then quick as run 
The lightnings, Ainli from his shoulder spun 



I20 . DEIRDR£. 

His brass-bound javelin with unerring hand : 
High on the throat, above the golden band 
That girt the Rover's neck, the brazen blade 
Struck deep and onward its fell pathway made 
Under the skull-base ; — on the bloody bent 
Clashing the hero fell, and Ainli sent 
A fierce shout through the night, while all his men 
With a wild yell to battle rushed again. 
And Naisi heard the cry, and answer gave 
With a great shout, and, forward bounding, drave 
His mighty spear-head through the ponderous door, 
By deft Fomorian hands replaced once more, — 
Through boss and sea-worn plank, intent to slay, 
Crashing, the cruel spear-head made its way, 
Far piercing through a soldier's back and breast 
Who stood behind, and bandied gibe and jest, 
Laughing, with his compeers, — ah ! knowing not 
That Death oft seeketh man's securest spot. 
To strike unseen ! Down drooped the soldier's 

head, 
And a grim pallor o'er his features spread, 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 121 

And fast his heart poured forth its crimson tide, 
And hanging on the spear impaled he died ! 
Then, as the shy wild deer that from the wood 
Come forth to drink the streamlet's crystal flood. 
And quench their eager thirst, and gambol free 
Over the ferny glade, till suddenly 
They hear the savage growl and furious charge 
Of a huge wolf from out the forest's marge. 
Away they bound with trembling limbs, — away 
From the fell danger in their blind dismay ; 
So the Fomorian guard, struck pale with awe 
When the great spear within tlie door they saw 
Transfix their comrade, from their shelter fled 
Behind the quaking bulwark. Terror led 
Their flight, and winged their coward feet amain, 
As Naisi with a shout plucked back again 
His long spear, and the armed corse fell down 
Clattering upon the causeway. Then the stowne 
Of war rose higher still ; from pliant wrist 
And ready hand full many a javelin hissed 



122 DEIRDR^. 

Its serpent song far-darting, bucklers clanged 
And harness rattled, and the bowstrings twanged 
Resounding, and the arrows fell like sleet 
On Blama from the storm-cloud sharp and fleet 
Down whizzing ; round the pale, without, within, 
The thick ranks strove, and o'er the dreadful din 
Fury with foamy lips and blinded eyes 
Raised her harsh voice till earth and darkened 

skies 
And deep sea trembled ! 

As a captain brave 
Who steers his bark through stormy wind and wave, 
Naisi, now here, now there, his battle led, 
And with high word and deed their valor fed 
Unflagging, though the gradual rising tide 
Floated full many a corse, and far was dyed 
With blood-streaks of his kindred. On his ear 
The tramp of a great host now drawing near 
Down the wild isle there fell, and through the gloom 
A broad black banner came, with many a plume 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 123 

Behind it waving ; then a savage roar 

Of joy arose that shook the island shore 

From the Fomorian ranks. " With swooping 

wing 
The Eagle comes ! Great Talc ! the King ! the 

King ! " 
They cried exulting ; then a sudden trace 
Of moonlight fell, and showed the dreadful face 
Of the Fomorian King, as down he came, 
His black hair on the wind, his eyes aflame 
With cruel light ; then all was dark ; the shower 
Of darts fell tenfold thick, the fatal hour 
Of the great Three seemed nigh. From the attack 
On the right wing strong Ardan turned his back 
A moment ; on the centre, Naisi's shout 
Was heard in vain by his retreating rout 
Of files confused ; yet on the leftward fray 
Young Ainli, like the hill-cat to its prey 
Clung to the palisade full stubbornly. 
And now, as Naisi turned, the rising sea 



124 DEIRDR^. 

Rolled inward wave by wave, and o'er his waist 

Lapped at his mail-shirt, and full soon embraced 

His warriors arm-pit high and stopped their flight ; 

And, as he yearning looked upon the height 

To see his loved ones, sudden overhead 

The moon shone out through parting clouds and 

shed 
A long bright shaft of glory, slanting down 
Athwart the darkness on the hillock's crown, 
Showing young Deirdre on her brazen chair, 
Holding her child aloft in her despair 
And terror, that his little eyes might see 
His father's death scene. Gleaming vividly 
The light illumed them, then came trailing fast 
Its splendor down the sloping hill, and passed 
Across the sound still gleaming, and was gone ; 
And in that fleeting moment, even as one 
Who gropes his way through midnight woods and 

sees 
At last 6ome welcome light amid the trees. 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 125 

Bringing new courage, Naisi's soul took fire 

At sight of his belov'd ones. On the dire, 

Dark ruin of his battle his keen gaze 

Fell hopeful, as that sudden moonlight blaze 

Flashed on the sound, and showed amid the wreck 

A mast wind-torn from some great galley's deck 

Slow floating towards him. Like the Trump of 

Doom 
Unto his startled foes rang through the gloom 
His rallying shout : his warriors turned ; the mast 
Some poised on their strong shoulders, and the blast 
Sang through their plumes, as toward the hostile 

door. 
With a great rush, at Naisi's word they tore, 
Shouting, till like a war-ram 'gainst a wall 
The great beam struck the door whose direful fall 
Followed the shock like thunder. Inward poured 
The Usnanians now. Out flashed the Sea-god's 

sword 
* Flaming in Naisi's grasp, and far and near 
Shrank the Fomorians, shuddering in their fear 



126 DEIRDR^. 

Before him, as they saw the dreadful brand 
Rising and falling in the hero's hand ! 

Now Ainli, Ardan's voices left and right 
Like cheering trumpets echoed o'er the fight, 
While fast before their charge they swept the foe ; 
As two converging fires, when strong winds blow 
In a great wood at night, with fearful glare 
Come roaring on, each wild beast from his lair 
Rushing in terror, onward thundering drove 
Their thick spear-bristling battles, while above. 
The clouds disparting, bright the moon sailed 

out 
In the blue heaven, and showed the helpless rout 
Of the Fomorians hedged around, and gored 
By showers of shafts and javelins. Shrilly roared 
The wind ; again the moon hid ; Mercy fled 
The field despairing ; Rage or coward Dread 
Possessed all hearts ; while, raising her wild shriek, 
Slausfhter with crimson winsfs and raven beak 



THE FOMORIAN GALLEYS. 12/ 

Flapped the black sky above exultingly : 
Till, as the sinking moon from o'er the sea 
Cast her last beams ere morn across the isle, 
Weirdly they glimmered on the ghastly pile 
Of pirate dead that cumbered all the strand, 
Whereby strong Naisi stood, in his left hand 
Holding aloft the grim and gory head 
Of the Fomorian King ! 

Now rosy red 
The morn arises, and the clouds of night 
From sea and glittering landscape take their 

flight 
Before the conquering sun ; and with them go 
The clouds of doubt, of terror, and of woe 
From Deirdre's mind, as on her chariot seat 
She sits with Gaier, and hears the armed feet 
Tramp round her of her husband's host ; while he 
Walks by the car, the light of victory 
Within his dark eyes drowned in love. Before 
The chariot, as they gain the sunlit shore, 



128 DEIRDR£. 

To cross the sound, the maids and children sing 
Their songs of joy, and woven garlands fling 
On the white steeds and car ; the harpers play 
Their notes of triumph, while the trumpets bray 
Hoarse symphony. The sound is crossed, they 

gain 
The ships and set their wide sails o'er the main, 
And clear the bay, and with a favoring wind 
Leave the wild isle and their dead foes behind. 
And, steering north by east, at length they view 
Slieve League's high head loom o'er the waters blue, 
And thence by Arran's rocks and Torry's spray, 
For Alba's friendly shores they sail away, 
Rejoicing, till their long black galleys ride 
Moyle's hoarse-resounding, high-wave-curling tide ! 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 1 29 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 



^WIFT cleaving through the midmost wave 

that roars 

'Tween woody Erin and fair Alba's shores, 

The galleys swam, as sank the saffron light 

Of the third day on ocean's bosom bright, 

Shimmering along the glittering golden spray 

To Ulad's windy forelands far away. 

As from the north when Winter 'gins his reign, 

The giant whales plough south the yielding main 

In a great shoal, to reach the warmer seas 

That wash wild Orkney's isles and Hebrides, — 

With heads unerring pointed towards their goal. 

O'er the wide waste careers the mighty shoal 
6* I 



130 DEIRDR^. "^ 

Behind their King, the huge bull whale, whose track 
Gleams with white spray, far furrowing ocean's 

back; 
So the fleet clove the billows, following 
The great war galley of the conquered King, 
Upon whose deck the brothers stood, while she, — 
The loved one, — with her child sat smilingly 
Amidst them on her carved brazen chair. 
Over the royal deck, around them there, 
Barbaric shone the trophies of the fight, — 
Round-rimmed, emblazoned shields and swords of 

might, 
Mantles of many colors, white and green. 
Saffron and blue, and scarlet's dazzling sheen, 
Bales of bright silks torn by pirate hands 
From the sacked towns of weeping southern lands, 
Great spears bedecked with many a golden stud, 
And helms and mail-shirts still unwashed of blood. 

With Deirdr^ sat her maids, — Fingalla fair. 

And blue-eyed Aoif^ of the nut-brown hair. . 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 131 

Lightly they laughed with many a merry wile 
And prank and look to win the baby's smile, 
Who danced himself upon his mother's knee 
And laughed in turn, and crowed full lustily. 
And Naisi, looking on them, felt the sweet 
Of life make all his pulses warmly beat. 
And his great heart o'erfill with thankfulness 
To the Almighty Gods who, from distress 
And life-long trouble and despair and moan. 
Work joy to mortals, when all hope seems gone ! 
Then turned the hero round, and walked full slow 
Astern, wherefrom through sunset's fading glow 
The far Ulidian capes he still could see 
Upraise their windy foreheads. Silently 
Like one adream he gazed on them the while 
With yearning heart, till died the day's last smile, 
And o'er the gray sea crept the silent night 
With the pale moon and stars all diamond bright 
Sparkling upon the waters, and the breeze 
Freshened apace, and o'er the swelling seas, 



132 DEIRDR£. 

Incessant, the white steeds of Mananan 
Chased his black galley o'er the waters wan. 

And all that night they sailed, and as they sped 
Upon their right passed many a towering head 
Of hill and cape and many a lonely strand 
And forest of the wild Cantyrian land. 
And now within the east the shining dawn 
Clomb up the sky, and leafy brake and lawn, 
Low-lying mead and purple highland tract, 
Dell, stream, and gorge, and vapory cataract 
Of the strange land, both near and far away. 
Crept out of night's black shadow into day ; 
And the breeze lulled, and from his vermeil 

bed 
The sun upraised his glorious, gladsome head 
And looked with smile benign o'er earth and sea. 
'Neath the fresh morn the Usnanians joyously 
Still onward sailed, till 'tween two headlands gray 
They steered into a lovely, land-locked bay. 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 133 

Where on their left the mountains rose full high 
From the blue water to the bluer sky, 
Robed in red heath and mosses golden brown. 
Far on their front, a mighty stream flung down 
Its waters through the great gorge it had made 
To the calm bay, in many a bright cascade, 
Now lost in groves of pine, now shadowed 
By some steep crag that reared its hoary head, 
Hail-hammered by the storms of centuries, 
High o'er the forest. On their right, the breeze 
Curled the light wavelets to the sloping strand 
That lay 'tween water and the grassy land, — 
Green, grassy land whereon the autumn flowers 
Glittered o'er glade and lawn, as gleam the showers 
Of falling stars on some far boreal sea ; — 
There o'er the sward the lovely rowan tree 
Drooped with its clusters all vermilion red 
Of berries bright, and high its tapering head 
The larch uplifted, and the silver bolls 
Of birches glimmered from their ferny knolls ; 



134 DEIRDR^. 

And the great oak-tree and the giant pine, 
Girt with green ivy or the woodland vine, 
Grew here and there in all their majesty ; 
And the dark holly shone, and gracefully 
The slender ash in spots stood all alone, 
Like a coy virgin. Onward, thicker grown, 
Spread nut-woods, merging in a forest vast 
Where red deer ranged and wild boars crunched 

the mast, 
And the gray wolf and savage bear abode. 
Bright over all the saffron morning glowed 
With genial ray that made the wild-birds sing 
In that fair place and joy rule everything. 

Now on the galleys' sides the warriors' shields, 
Locked rim by rim, displayed their shining fields 
To the glad sun with fair emblazonery ; 
And o'er their glittering edges one could see 
Of maids and children many a gleesome face 
Look with delight upon that lovely place, 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 135 

And on broad deck and poop their elders stand 
In eager converse, each with pointed hand 
Stretched towards green glade or dell that sem- 
blance bore 
To some loved spot upon their native shore. 
And, as they stood, they heard the loud command 
Of Naisi ringing over sea and land, 
Soon followed by the merry sailors' song, 
As noisily the well-ranged fleet along 
They cast the anchors and the oars drew in, 
And furled the sails ; then fast the joyful din 
Increased and drowned the song the shipmen sung ; 
The children laughed, and many an old dame's 

tongue 
Wagged voluble ; the great hounds bayed, the plash 
Of lowering boats was heard ; the ring and clash 
Of armor sounded as the warriors took 
Their shields from off the bulwarks strong, and 

shook 
Their spears with gladness. Midway to the shore 
Dark Naisi's boat full fast now plied the oar, 



136 DEIRDRi:. 



With its lov'd freight ; and as they neared the 

strand, 
Shouting his war-shout, Ardan sprung to land. 
Striding full swift the wave -washed space to pass, 
And struck his spear-butt through the woven grass 
Into the woodland earth, and left it there, 
Its rings and broad blade shining high in air ; 
Then turned again unto the boat, and bore 
In his strong arms young Gaier along the shore 
To the green spot where towered his mighty spear. 
There stood he smiling as his kin drew near, 
And blithely said, " O sister ! brothers mine ! 
Look on this lovely land, this sun benign 
Laughing good omen on us from the skies ! 
Be sure, in after time, in goodly wise 
Our kingdom here o'er all the land shall spread, 
Won by our might ; and wlien the years have 

fled 
Prosperous for us, and we are old and gray, 
This little hand the regal rod shall sway ! " 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 13/ 



Now in the pleasant afternoon the feet 

Of the great tribe had pressed the grasses sweet 

Of the fair sunny woodland, save of those 

The shipmen left behind. The long repose 

Of the sweet pleasance now seemed lost alway ; — 

Loud bayed the fierce hounds to the charger's neigh; 

With shrilly scream the royal ger-falcon 

Fluttered his wings the mail-clad wrist upon, 

Glad at the woodland sights ; the cheery sound 

Of mallets echoed, in the thymy ground 

Driving the tent-pegs ; while from tree to tree 

The children played and shouted joyfully. 

Whereat an ancient raven who had seen 

Long centuries within that woodland green, 

By man untroubled, on his aged oak 

From his sweet noontide slumber now awoke 

And shook himself, and slowly 'gan to draw 

Across his reverend head his wrinkled claw, 

And winked his wise old eyes, and looking out 

Through the thin branches saw the joyous rout 



138 DEIRBRK. 

With all its social sounds ; then suddenly 
He spread his wings, far, far away to flee 
In dudgeon dire to other woods remote ! 

There, ere the winter winds the hillside smote, 
They built their mighty dun, with earthen mound 
And watery ditch tri-circled round and round, 
Strong-gated and compact ; and with great toil 
Therein they gathered all the woodland spoil : 
Fish, with their trawling nets spread long and 

wide 
They reft in myriads from the teeming tide 
Of sea and stream ; and deftly did they take 
The fowl in many a flock from wood and lake ; 
They slew the brown bear in his forest hoar, 
Within his nut-strewn wood the savage boar, 
And out on mountain sides and moorlands brown 
The dun bull and his herd they hunted down 
With food-providing spears ; while hawk and hound 
Made joyous tumult through the wild woods round, 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. I39 

Chasing the heron and far-bounding deer 

To sound of horn and huntsman's merry cheer. 

And now hoar Winter, where the friendly Star 

That guides the wandering galley shines afar 

In the bright zenith fixt, his storehouse vast 

Of feathery crystals opened ; and the blast 

That guards the Pole, let loose, his pinions light 

Spread out wide winnowing one silent night 

O'er isle and continent the pearly snow, 

Till morning rose, and solemnly and slow 

The great flakes still fell down. Within the dun 

The gleeful children round began to run, 

And clapped their little hands and cried, " The 

gccse ! 
The wild geese shed their feathers ! " fleece on fleece 
Of the soft floss falling upon their play, — 
And falling, falling all the livelong day 
And all the night till the next morning came, 
And for the first time, gay with golden flame, 



I40 DEIRDR^. 

The sun arose unwelcomed by the bills 

Of tuneful birds or sounds of murmuring rills. 

Within her chamber sat the mother fair, 

Her loved ones by her, as the stilly air 

Of that calm day was darkening into night ; 

And ne'er on looks more gladsome fell the light 

Of lamp, or ruddy fire of hearth, than theirs. 

And well forgotten now seemed all their cares, — 

So well, that in the warm and social gleam 

Of the bright fire the embers 'gan to seem 

To each glad eye arranged in castles gay, 

And landscapes of delight where life's young 

May 
Was all calm sunshine and fair blossoming. 
Untouched by past or future's bitter sting ! 
And yet, 'mongst all the brightness, still there lay 
A shadow upon Deirdr^'s soul, whose sway 
Showed its fell presence, though infrequently, 
In this wise: once her child upon her knee 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 14I 

She took from Aoife's arms, and placed her 

hand 
On his young noble head, and curious scanned 
His eyes, as though she sought to find therein 
Some impress of the Doom of death and sin 
By Caffa prophesied ; and finding nought 
But life and laughter, inward turned her thought, 
As if communing with the Gods awhile ; 
Then looked again and met the infant's smile, 
And bent her down and kissed him silently, 
And murmured to herself, " 'Twixt Them and me 
I place thee, O my babe ! " 

And now she took 
Her husband's hand, and with a joyful look 
Said, " Here perchance our days may all be glad ! — 
In the world's life are mixed the Good, the Bad, 
For man's own choosing, and who chooscth well 
Wins happiness. O love, what tongue can tell 
The dangers thou hast conquered to attain 
This haven of our rest from fear and pain ? 



142 deikdr£. 

Then steadfast keep thy mind to tempt no more 
New dangers, and upon this friendly shore 
Our lives may pass, and love triumphant be 
O'er the King's wrath and Caffa's prophecy ! " 

Then Naisi smiled, and, " Fear not, love ! " he 

said. 
" No weakly tribe were we when sore bested, 
Nor feebler now in peace to hold our own 
In this strange land, than our sires dead and gone. 
Whose valiant maxim was, through great and small, 
' Fight Danger on his own side of the wall ! ' " 
With hand still clasped in hers, " O peerless one ! " 
He cried again, " look on thy little son. 
May the Gods calm through him thy strange alarm. 
And with his infant wiles thy soul so charm 
To happiness, that thou may'st all forget 
Thy boding fears ; though never spok'st thou yet 
But that some Godhead utterance seemed to find 
From thy sweet mouth. O best of womankind, 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 143 

Well sayest thou Good is gain, and Evil loss, 
And wild Ambition's fruit but bitter dross, 
And Love the flower of life, the priceless gift 
The Gods the brave bestow whose swords are swift 
To guard it, and whose hearts Adversity 
Can conquer not, nor fire, air, earth, or sea, 
Divide from the belov'd ! " 

Now brooding came 
Night's wings on earth inwrought with starry flame. 
And round the Dun hushed every sound, save those 
That from the merry banquet-hall arose. 
Round the fair chamber all had gathered there, 
Rury the Bard to hear, whose silvered hair. 
Thrown back, displayed his forehead broad and 

white 
High-domed above his rapt eyes jewel-bright, 
And noble face and flowing beard of snow. 
With the six royal colors all aglow 
His ample garments shone, as preluding 
His epic song, he touched the sounding string. 



144 DEIRDR^, 

Usna's Arch Bard was he. And first he sang 
The Song of Conquest : how the island rang 
With sound of warring storms and demon cries, 
And magic thunders bellowing through the skies ; i 
And how the Three Seas donned their robes of mist 
Made by the Danaans, and how roared and hissed \ 
The huge waves, heaved aloft to hide the coast 
From Miled's sons and the Milesian host 
With unavailing clamor ; how the fray- 
Raged by the southern shore the livelong day ; 
How Fas the Fair was slain, and how she died 
Who sleeps within the cool glen by the side 
Of the gray sea, — Scota the Flower-bright Queen, 
Whose lonely grave in summer sparkles sheen 
With many a fragrant blossom in that dell 
Of wild Sleemis the Windy ; and how fell 
'Neath the Milesian spears in Tailti's fight 
The regal sons of Kermad, and the might 
Of Miled's seed won Erin's sovereignty, 
From Toth's loud wave to Cleena's murmuring sea ! 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. I45 

And thus each night he sang some ancient lay, 
And thus within the Dun time passed away 
Till three moons waned and all the snows were 

gone, 
And velvet catkins on the willow shone 
By lowland streams, and on the hills the larch 
Scented with odorous buds the winds of March. 

One glimpse of Spring to pass away too soon ! — 
Out from the iron East, one afternoon, 
A wind arose full chilly, and began 
With blighting breath the tender twigs to fan, 
And through the pine woods make its bitter moan, 
With power each day waxed stronger, as if blown 
From the fell mouth of fast-pursuing Fate, 
Continuous, till the groves were desolate, 
And hill and dale, of every living thing, 
jA.nd tender bud and blossom of the spring. 
|A.nd now the chase no rnorc its guerdon gave, 
^.nd as the wildwood barren was the wave, 

7 J 



146 DEIRDR^. 

While blew that poisoned breeze ; and cheeks grew 

white 
Within the Dun, for Hunger there 'gan bite 
The tribe with bitter fangs. Then one drear day 
With five score champions Naisi strode away 
Eastward along the hillsides, with the sword 
To win them food. As troops a savage horde 
Of wolves in winter, questing for their prey 
O'er the low plains from Crotta's mountains gray 
With gnashing teeth and wild red roving eyes, 
So stalked they forth. Within the leaden skies 
The sun sank cheerless, and with wannish flame 
Arose next morn, but still no tidings came 
Of the bold absent ones. 

" O brother brave," 
Then Ardan cried to Ainli, " by what wave. 
Or wood, or hill, or town of this strange land. 
Doth Naisi lift the long spear in his hand 
And show the golden Osprey on his shield } 
Perchance, full hard bested on fell or field, 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 147 

O'er the bright orb he fearless eyes the foe, 
In war's hot barter changing blow for blow. 
Go thou and find, and aid him at his need." 

Joyful young Ainli donned his warlike weed 

Of bull-hide strong, well fenced with scales of 

brass, 
And striding fierce went through the eastern pass, 
And showed the Hill Cat gleaming on the boss 
Of his broad shield o'er many a moor and moss, 
Followed by four score champions. From the height 
Over the bay came down the gloomy night, 
Her ancient plumes by kindly dews unwet ; 
And morning rose, but brought no tidings yet 
To Ardan, who, ere noon, with three score men 
Brass-panoplied marched through the eastern glen 
Grimly and stern. Full many a hill and wold 
Saw the great fighting Boar of graven gold 
Glittering upon his shield as he went on, 
Till on his broad strong: back the evening sun 



148 DEIRDR^. 

Glanced red against the buff-coat's brazen scales, 
And from a shaggy height that o'er the vales 
Rose towering, he looked down and saw a sight 
That filled his valiant heart with fierce delight. 

Beneath him, scarce an arrow flight away, 

Fenced round by rocks and trees, a hollow lay, 

With one rough outlet, steep, of narrow span, 

Wherethro' in foam a shallow torrent ran 

With bickering voice. Now o'er the torrent's bed 

And the small path that by its waters led 

From th' outward plain, with loud-resounding din 

A mighty herd of kine came driving in. 

Filling the hollow. High the steam arose 

From their perspiring backs, like that which shows 

Its rolling mists at morn o'er Gada's mere 

Amid the young spring meadows, when the year 

Dries its last hoar-frost in the risen sun 

And dim-seen cattle round the pastures run ! 

Up the rough narrow pathway, like the wind 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 149 

Strode Naisi's men, the maddened rout behind ; 
While he, three full rods at their rearward, came 
With haughty front and threatening eye of flame, 
Turning betimes upon the foe that pressed 
Close on his footsteps, o'er his mighty breast 
His shield upraised, and by his towering head 
His huge spear poised with blade all purple red 
From the fresh gore it spilt ; so turns the bear 
Whom hunters fighting follow to his lair 
With deafening clamor up some desert pass 
Where Sulitelma rears its snow-white mass 
High o'er Norwegian woods ; — vengeful he turns, 
While the hot wrath within his red eye burns. 
And furious rends with cruel teeth and claw 
And savage growl the foes that nigh him draw ! 

And now the hollow's widening sward they gain, 
And Naisi, turning, halts and shouts amain 
Unto his warriors, who come rushing back 
With levelled spears to guard the narrow track; 



ISO DEIRDRk. 

And the foe halts, and their thick press divides, 
Like waves around a war-ship's sliining sides. 
While from the rearward, on a huge black steed 
In barbarous trappings dight, with headlong speed 
Loud clanging, rode a warrior grim and old. 
Large-limbed, and clad in gleaming weed of gold 
And brass and burnished steel : with blazing eye 
He checked his steed and raised his spear on 

high, 
And looked on Naisi full of wrath and pride, 
And in a voice of thunder thus he cried : — 

" Dog of a stranger ! whence art thou ? and where, 
In this our country, buildest thou thy lair ? 
What thief of thieves begat thee ? Art thou dumb ? 
Speak ere thou diest, for thine hour is come ! 
Ha ! hear the wild cat's cry from yonder wood 
With hungry clamor calling for thy blood. 
And from the hill the grumbling of the boar 
That soon shall dip his sharp tusks in thy gore ! " 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 151 

Then Naisi, hearkening, heard the signal cry, — 
Hill Cat and Boar, — and knew his brothers nigh, 
And at the old man shook his spear and said, — 
' Ha ! likelier shall their hungry maws be fed 
With flesh of thee and thine, for I am one 
Whom men call Naisi, mighty Usna's son, 
From Erin's northern coast. I asked for food 
With kindly words from these thy followers 

rude, 
And got but ribald speech, old man, like thine ! 
For them and thee the wives and maids shall pine 
Of this thine Alban land ; the Osprey's beak 
The heart's blood in thy riven breast shall seek ; 
For, hark ! the Wild Cat's cry draws nearer still, 
And mighty Boar-Shield rushes down the hill ! " 
He said, and, as on high his weapon shone, 
Cried, " Ware the Osprey's swoop ! " and then fell 

on. 
And scarce the whizzing spear had left his hand, 
When from the ambush Ainli with his band 



152 DEIRDRi:. 

Rushed from the wood, and Ardan fierce and strong 

At the same moment joined the strugghng throng, 

That for a dreadful space swayed to and fro, 

In desperate conflict mixed, till far below 

The stream-bed seemed as if the tumbling flood 

Had torn from out its roots some wintry wood, 

And swept it downward with resounding roar, 

Choking its gorge and tearing all its shore 

With tossing trunk and branch and flickering spray ; 

So raged between the cliffs the clamorous fray. 

Close packed and joined in one great whelming 

wave 
Of struggling men and bickering spear and glaive ! 

Sharp was the onset, short the battle roared : 
The foe went down before the Usnanian sword ; 
The foaming torrent ran with bloody stain. 
The vanquished fled, the victors spoiled the slain, 
And no fierce captives took save him alone, 
Aran, the aged chief of high Dunthrone, 



d 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 153 

Whom Naisi tore from off his snorting steed 
'Mid the thick battle press. Then with the speed 
Of a wild wind of March they swept away- 
Through the rough glens, exulting, with their 

prey, 
And reached the Dun as the first beams of morn 
Rose in the east and lit the hills forlorn. 

Great was the triumph, loud the mirth and glee, 
Within the Dun that gallant sight to see ; 
Out to the gate came Deirdre with her boy, 
And in her husband's arms returning joy 
Sparkled within her eyes of heavenly blue. 
And to her cheeks restored the roses' hue. 
And, as around the throng her glances ran, 
With pity fell they on the grim old man, 
Aran the captive, in his golden dress 
Now soiled and rent from out the battle press. 
No drooping captive he : haughty he stood. 
Straight as a pine stem in Glenara's wood ; 
7» 



154 deirdr£. 

Yet, as he raet her glance, the hostile glare 
Left his fierce eyes and a kind look came there ; 
And turning unto Naisi wonderingly, — 
" Now, by the Gods ! " he cried, " what men be 

ye, 

Who, while this night my bitter tongue did burn 
With words of rage, gave kind ones in return ? 
Whose women, like this peerless wife of thine. 
Look on my hapless state with eyes benign ? 
Why slay me not ? as erst by Solway's shore 
I slew the Roman knight this hauberk wore, 
And spoiled him of his golden finery 
Even when the fight was won ; for I am he, 
Aran of high Dunthrone, whose northern blade 
In Rome's firm ranks the first red havoc made, 
When by my side our King, now tall and strong 
As thou art, then a stripling, all day long 
Fought with his hand lashed to the sword's bright 

hilt, 
Fearing to lose his grasp ; and redly gilt 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA-. 1 55 

[Were hand and sword ere ending of that field, 
For well I taught him 'neath the Roman shield 
To plant his steel within the Roman heart 
Then slay me ! slay ! and let my soul depart 
Unto the mighty Gods who love the brave, 
Rather than live in bonds and die a slave ! " 

" No slave art thou ! " said Naisi : " we were taught 
Reverence for age and valor. Dearly bought 
The knowledge comes to youth that with it brings 
Contempt for such as thou. In all fair things 
Our guest thou art : or now even thou art free 
To go back to thy King, whoe'er he be ! " 

Great feast they made : the fat flesh of the spoil 
On spits did smoke, in brazen cauldrons boil, 
And a sweet steam arose, and red wine flowed 
Till the third morning o'er the mountains glowed. 
Then from their ships a coat of mail they brought 
With bright brass blazing and with gold inwrought, 



156 DEIRDRiJ. 

A hawk, a hound, a war-horse snowy-white 
With golden selle and purple trappings dight, 
A royal brooch, a cloak of scarlet fold, 
A broad-orbed shield rimmed round with graven 

gold, 
A sword with many a jewel glittering. 
And sent them as a peace-gift to the King, 
With the old chief, who, as he rode away. 
Still dubious said, " What kind of men be they ? " 

The days went on : soft sunny showers of rain 
Sprinkled the barren ridge and parched plain, 
And wild flowers oped their lovely painted bells, 
And grass grew green, and birds sang in the dells, 
And all was glad when the ninth morning burned 
Over the hills, and the old lord returned 
With many a gift, and message kind to come 
To the King's house and find therein a home. 

Then Naisi left the fourth part of his host 
Ward over fleet and Dun, and from the coast 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 157 

Moved inland three days' march, and ere the night 
Of the third day camped 'neath a woody height 
In a green dell, wherethro' a murmuring stream 
Ran with its bordering meadows all agleam 
With new-sprung vernal flowers. Then Deirdre 

said : 
" By some fair-seeming fortune we are led, 
O Naisi, through this land ; but take thou heed 
Where want of foresight or mishap may lead. 
This wild King hath no wife : some day perchance 
My luckless face may meet his ardent glance, 
And danger follow, O fond love, to thee. 
And parting from thine arms and death to me ! 
Then reach his town beneath the night's dark shade, 
And 'neath the darkness be our campment made. 
And in the tents conceal us women all, 
Ere thou goest up unto the great King's hall." 

And so 'twas done. One day's march lay between 
The King's fair palace and that woodland green ; 



158 deirdrE. 

And, as the next night's darkness gathered 

down, 
They pitched their camp outside the royal town. 
Then morning's splendor came ; and Naisi rose, 
And with his brothers ten stout warriors chose, 
Armed as for battle, for his following, 
And left his tents and went before the King. 

Now young this King was, as old Aran said ; 
Impulsive, proud and brave, and still unwed ; 
And, trained since childhood 'mid the clash of spears, 
Was wise in war, though scarce of Naisi's years. 
Handsome he was, and knit in giant mould ; 
Broad were his brows ; his hair, like swarthy gold, 
From its bright circlet fell with tawny stain 
O'er his strong shoulders like a lion's mane ; 
Haughty the look within his large gray eye 
As the young eagle's on the mountain high ; 
Rich were the robes he wore with kingly grace ; 
And like a ruddy morning was his face. 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 159 

! And now, as 'mid his armed nobles all, 
He saw the Usnanians striding up the hall, 
His bold brow flushed a little, and the sheen 
Of valor in his eye grew warm and keen, 
As though some quick thought swelled his heart 

with pride 
Of great deeds yet with them done side by side. 
On fields where young men mighty of their hands 
Love the wild war-shout and the clash of brands. 
Graceful he rose, and on his royal chair 

I Placed his strong hand and paused a moment 

I there, 

I Till glittering bright before him Naisi stood 

I With his tall band. 

" O rover of the wood. 
That knowest so well," he said, " to rob and slay 
In this our realm, now what hast thou to say .-• " 

He smiled, yet at the question Naisi's eye 
I • Sparkled full stern before he made reply, 



l6o DEIRDR^. 

"But this," he answered: "place thine enemies, 
O King, before us, and the self same breeze 
That fans thy banner let it blow on ours ; 
And be they Roman ranks, or Northern powers, 
That face us, we will give, as best we can, 
Five score to feed thy wolves for every man 
We slew of thine ; and, as a token sure, 
Take thou mine hand, that friendship may en- 
dure 
Between us while the heart of Honor beats ! " 

Bright the King smiled, and said, " The hand that 

meets 
Thine other than in friendship firm must be, 
And doubly armed against adversity ; 
And thus I take thine hand, and thus I say, 
Well met, O comrade, on this lucky day ! " 

Now scarce the April moon's pale light had gone, '^ 
When in the sun the warlike banners shone 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. l6l 

Of King and prince ; and many a battle tide 

With conquering swords the twain stemmed side 

by side, 
Each well-fought field but adding strength the more 
To the hot friendship each the other bore, 
Till one full year had passed in joy away. 
And fields were white with daisies of the May. 

It chanced upon a morn of early spring. 
When flowers began to bloom and birds to sing, 
That Starn, the royal Steward, passing by 
The camp of Usna, cast his prying eye 
On Deirdr^, as she sat beneath a tree 
Outside her tent door. Long and curiously 
He eyed her from the grove wherein he stood, 
Then walked away in silent gladsome mood, 
Like one who by a lucky chance hath found 
Some treasure rare long hidden underground. 
I Yet said he nought until the King came home 
From hostile shores washed by the North Sea's foam, 



l62 DEIRDR^. 

Where he and his and Usna's host imbrued 
Their spears in blood, and many a tribe subdued. 
Then went he to the King. 

" Now by thy head ! 
And by my father's hand, O King ! " he said, 
"The gem of gems I've found thee. I have seen 
In Usna's camp bright Beauty's peerless queen, 
The wife of Naisi, — beautiful beyond 
All youth's imaginings or day-dreams fond, — 
Yea ! yea ! so beautiful that I — even I — 
Stood for a moment in wild ecstasy 
And blessed the Gods that made her ! Take her 

then 
Unto thy throne, and slay these stranger men 
In open hall, or bid me privately 
To slay them ! " 

But the King said, " Far from me, 
O Starn ! be that fell day when Friendship's band 
And Honor's law I break with mine own hand. 
Then tempt me not." 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 163 

But Starn said, " Though the blood 
Within thy heart from childhood frozen stood, 
'Twould melt, O King, before her face divine, 
And run through all thy veins like boiling wine ! 
But go thyself. Watch from the grove and see, 
Then try and measure what thy love shall be ! " 

And the King sought the grove himself, and saw ; 
And Friendship's sacred tie and Honor's law. 
And fear and shame, and sense of wrong and right, 
Fled from his maddened bosom at the sight, 
And in their stead there burned a raging flame 
Of blindfold love no power on earth could tame. 
" O Starn," he said, " go seek her privily, 
And promise all a queen should have from me ! " 

One morn while King and prince a hosting made 
Far in the west ; while every grove and glade 
Around the camp with fragrant bloom was bright 
Of daisies, primroses, and shamrocks white, 



1 64 DEIRDR&. 

And hyacinths that with their trembling bells 
Like a blue robe from heaven shone down the 

dells, 
Twinkling with diamond dew-drops, — to the screen j 
Of the sweet grove the old man came unseen, 
And looked, and by the tent found Deirdre there, 
Sitting and weaving flowers in garlands fair 
To crown her little boy, who on her knee 
Laughed in the dancing shadows of the tree 
That o'er them spread, rustling with young birds' 

winers. 



i 



" Sweet is the song each bird of beauty sings 
To him that owns it," Starn thought, as he came 
Out from the grove and told his tale of shame 
And purpose dread. Then rose the loyal wife, 
Grasping her babe full firm. 

" Now, by thy life, 
O aged dog ! " she cried, " come here no more ! 
Thy little King ! Upon our native shore 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 165 

The true hand of a King worth ten hke thine 
I cast away for this brave lord of mine ! 
Begone ! and leave me to my thoughts alone ! " 
He fled, and sinking down she made her moan. 
Clasping her child and rocking to and fro 
In trembling fear and new-awakened woe ! 

Four days before the Baeltin Feast, at noon 

The hosts returned in triumph, and full soon 

Went Starn unto the King and told his tale. 

Whereat the monarch's brow with wrath grew 

pale, 

I And ten times stronger his hot bosom strove 

i 

I With thoughts of vengeance and unlawful love. 

> And fierce he cried : 

1 

j " O Starn, come woe or weal, 

Usna shall fall beneath the Alban steel 

Before to-morrow's light ! " 

" Nay, nay, O King ! " 

I Old Starn replied. "The Baeltin feast will bring 



1 66 DEIRDEA 



The hour to slay them, when unguardedly 
They sit around the board and in their glee 
Quaff the red wine within thy royal hall : 
Then let them feel the Alban sword and fall, 
Else, by the Gods ! full stern shall be the fight 
Ere they are slain ! " 

^ But on that very night, 
When Naisi knew the Alban's treacherous mind, 
He struck his camp, and left the town behind 
Full many a mile ere rose the morning ray. 
As westward to his fleet he made his way. 
Three days they marched in thunder, for they 

knew 
No safety now but o'er the ocean blue 
To spread their sails and seek another coast 
Would shield them from the King's pursuing host ; 
And on the third day, at the evening hour, 
With thankful hearts beheld the mountains tower 
Over the friendly bay, that on its breast 
Painted each precipice from foot to crest ; 



i 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 1 6/ 

They saw their numerous galleys side by side 
Ranged in fair order on the glassy tide, 
The groves, the gorge, the gleaming torrent run, 
The bloom-bright woodland, and the smoking Dun 
Wherein full many a festal fire did burn. 
Glad was the shout that welcomed their return 
From that part of the host with forethought meet 
They left behind to guard both Dun and fleet. 
And who from shore and wood came thronging now 
Round the strong gate with many a leafy bough ; 
For this was Baeltin Eve, and brakes and bowers, 
Copses and dells, were ransacked of their flowers 
To deck the morrow's feast. Each gate and door 
With garlands and green leaves was covered o'er ; 
And Naisi smiled with pleasure and amaze 
When on his marshalled fleet he turned his gaze, 
For there the hulls that erst were black as night 
Now shone, with many an image strange bedight. 
Limned in barbaric sheen of cinnabar, 
And purple rich from Roman lands afar, 



1 68 DEIRDR^. 

And from the swarthy Orient red and blue, 
Primeval woad, and many another hue 
Of pigments by the sailors found amid 
The huge heaps of Fomorian booty hid. 
Above the fleet three giant galleys rose : 
Midmost Talc's mighty war-ship, and of those, — 
The other twain, — one to the leftward lay, 
One flaunted o'er the right its pennons gay. 
Over the wave, each lofty prow upon, 
Well carved and gilt, a figure-head there shone, 
Made by the tribe's artificers : the left 
Bore the great Hill Cat wrought with fingers deft, 
Holding a silver salmon in his claw. 
Young Ainli's cognizance ; with open jaw. 
And gleaming tusks and shaggy breast of might, 
And bristling back, the Wild Boar on the right 
Seemed charging sheer into the dolphin's bath ; 
And on the King's ship th' Osprey in his wrath 
Swooped on his quarry from the cloudy height ; 
While like some Orient srove with blossoms bright 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 1 69 

Of climbers' dazzling glories, wide outspread 
From mast and spar, the fleet was garlanded 
With sprays of green, and flowers from wood and 

lea. 
Culled by glad hands, to grace the revelry 
And games of that great Feast of bloom and mirth 
That welcomed summer to the songful earth ! 

That night, with sharpened sense and watchful 

ear, 
Brave Naisi slept, and morn rose calm and clear, 
And the first Baelfire, lit, its tongues of flame 
Tossed upward towards the bright sun whence it 

came ; 
When, all at once, a scout in headlong speed 
Dashed from the east upon his foaming steed 
Into the Dun, and told how through the wood. 
Three leagues off, Aran came, athirst for blood. 
With a great host pursuing. Wrathfully 
The brothers grasped their spears, and to the sea 



I/O DEIRDR^. 

Betook them with their mighty tribe again ; 
And scarce on deck the last band of their men 
Had sprung with clashing harness, when the shore 
And all the wood shook with the loud uproar 
Made by the Alban host now drawing nigh 
In long-spread rushing ranks ; so, when the sky 
And wallowing sea are mixed in cloud and spray 
By the wild storm upon some wintry day, 
The fast high-curling surges roll amain, 
Each following each, to flood the sandy plain 
Of windy Rossapenna in the north ! 

And now from out his ranks came Aran forth, 
And laughed a bitter laugh, and from the strand 
At the Usnanians shook his armM hand, 
And like a trumpet cried : — 

" O small-souled men ! 
With valor like the little water-hen. 
That at the otter's plunge scuds o'er the wave 
To hide its head within some reedy cave 



I 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 1 71 

I Under the stream-bank, till the danger's o'er, — 
Why leave ye in such haste this pleasant shore 
Like churls, with your unfought-for, glorious prize ? 
Bethink ye ! Better is his fate who dies 
On the brave war-field, than of those who crawl 
Unto their beds, and turning to the wall, 
Racking in pains and writhing in despair, 
Inglorious, give their base souls to the air ! 
Come forth then from your ships, for vain do ye 
Now seek for safety on the windy sea ! 
There rides our valiant King with all his fleet. 
I Come forth then ! Better on this woodland meet 
I The brunt of war, treading the pleasant grass, 
I Than meet the King and through the cold door 
pass 
Of Death, to feed the dwellers of the wave ! 
I Come forth and fight ! " 

" Enough and more we gave, 
O vain old man, to thee in yonder wood 
- Of fight before ! " cried Naisi, as he stood 



172 DEIRDRS. 

High on the Osprey's poop. " Enough and more, 
Whilst thou stand'st watching vainly on the shore, 
Thy King shall get within this very bay ! 
For see ! Between the capes his pennons play, 
In the wind's teeth advanced a goodly span. 
Now mark thou well thy monarch's fate, old man, 
Meeting the bitter edge of Usna's steel 
With other hands than friendly ! " 

Like the peal 
Of the loud clarion ere the valiant cross 
Their bickering swords with shields faced boss to 

boss 
On the red field of war, from left to right 
Of the long fleet rang Naisi's voice of might. 
Ordering his battle. Loud the capstan's groan 
Shipping the anchors ; strong the broad sails blown ' 
Swelled their white bellies to the sunny ray ; 
Out flew the oars, to wreaths of hissing spray 
Churning the waters with well-measured sweep ; 
And the fleet moved, first slowly, on the deep, 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. IJZ 

Till gathering strength at last along the main 
It swept, far furrowing all the watery plain ! 

And now, as at the morn from Ennel's lake 
In a great flock the whirring wild-fowl break, 
And first confused climb up the brightening sky, 

I Then in a long line range themselves on high. 
With sounding wings stemming the ether blue ; 
So the Albanian fleet together drew 
Embattled from the far-off gleaming strait, 
Swift moving up to meet the doubtful fate 
Of combat on the unstable waste of brine ; 
While, on the other side, the Usnanian line 

j Swept toward them, till a well-flung javelin cast 
Might count the space 'tween hostile mast and 

mast. 
Then both sides paused, with back-swept careful 

oar; 
And from the King's poop, like the wild-bull's roar, 
Rang his strong voice : — 



174 DEIRDR^. 

"Thou seek'st an early grave, 
Usnanian, 'neath the ocean's boihng wave, 
Fronting me thus ; though, by the Gods ! I know 
Thou vieldest not without a manful blow. 
With high heart caring nought for death or life ! 
Then take thou this, first messenger of strife 
Between us ! " 

As he said, he raised on high 
His mighty hand and made his javelin fly 
Shrill whizzing, till it struck the broad-orbed shield 
Of Naisi nigh the midmost of its field 
With a great clang, and humming glanced aside 
And in the mast stuck quivering. In his pride 
Of wrath and strength rushing upon his prey, 
The shaggy north bear roars ; so on that day 
With rage fierce Naisi shouted, as he cast 
His dreadful spear, that like the lightning passed 
And struck the King's shield where the rim of 

gold 
Circled the boss ; a third of disc and fold 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 1 75 

Riving away in its destructive flight ; 

Yet, still advanced, the remnant no less bright 

Of the huge shield shone o'er the King's broad 

breast, 
Than, sinking slow by Skellig-Mihil's crest, 
Glares the great gibbous moon on Cleena's main. 
When the cloud-scudding night is on the wane ! 

And now Rage found a voice, and either side 
Thundered together : as when Wind and Tide 
In adverse battle join, one furious sweeps 
The Lammas floods from Blooma's far-off steeps 
Down Shamon's bed : one drives with deafening roar 
'Tween old Canlemy's Rock and Kerry's shore 
The boiling ocean in ; with high-raised back. 
Spray-brindled, huge, comes on each watery wrack, 
Meeting from strand to strand, in chaos dread 
Wide wallowing, while the flashing clouds o'erhead 
Thunder, and downward shoots the hissing sleet > 
So on the swirling brine each hostile fleet 



176 DEIRDRA. 

In giant conflict wrestled ! For a space 
Witli many a sharpened hook in fell embrace 
Each galley clasped the other ; yard and shroud 
And prow and poop shot forth its deadly cloud 
Of darts and arrows, while in hands of might 
Over the bulwarks crossed the sword-blades bright, 
And the plume dropped from cloven helm and crest, 
And the long spear in many a valiant breast 
Buried its brazen head. Ploughing the wave 
'Gainst a strong Alban ship, the Wild Boar drave 
Upon the right, fast as the fatal stone 
From the sling whistles by a strong arm thrown ; 
And, as she neared the foe, at Ardan's call 
With backward rush his champions one and all 
Crowded the stern, that, sinking with their weight, 
Heaved high the keel, while with a shout elate 
The sailors strained at one tremendous sweep 
Of their strong oars, and half-way from the deep 
The Wild Boar sprang, and with a mighty stowne 
High prow and sharpened keel went crashing down 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 177 

Upon the foeman's deck, that sank beneath 
With all its struggling crew, who scarce a breath 
Three times from out their laboring breasts could 

draw, 
When the waves closed, and Ocean's ravenous maw 
Swallowed them, and ne'er gave them forth again ! 

Loud o'er the clash of ships and cries of men 

Rose the great shout of Naisi, as he stood 

High on his poop, while round him, like a wood 

Of larch in Bierna shaken by the blasts. 

Gathered from either side the tossing masts, 

And with the King's his ship came beam to beam 

Resounding, and amid the clanging stream 

Of missiles sharp he caught the King's fierce eye 

Glaring upon him. With another cry 

Of wrath, he cast his spear, and ne'er again 

The brave King's foot had pressed his native plain. 

Save that an arrow stronger than the rest 

Of the fell shower clashed against Naisi's breast, 

8* L 



178 DEIRDR^. 

And glancing, th' upraised arm unerring hit, 
And through the brass and leathern harness bit, 
Tearing the skin small space, enough to cast 
From its true aim the spear that sounding passed 
By the King's side and pierced a warrior through. 

And now the King's great galley backward drew, 
Swift swinging round with oars again outspread 
To bring on th' Osprey's beam her armed head. 
Swung round, she stops, and then returns once 

more 
With speed redoubling 'neath the powerful oar. 
Cleaving the water in her dreadful race 
'Gainst th' Osprey, that, all crowded, found no space 
For turning from the shock that ne'er was given ; 
For like the lightning bolt that shoots from heaven j 
And rends some lordly castle with its flame. 
Round from the left the Hill Cat plunging came, 
And struck the Alban galley where the side 
Bends like a shoulder forward o'er the tide. 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. 1 79 

And reft her groaning ribs in thunder, then 
Backed with wide-sweeping oars to plunge again ! 
Needless, for through the breach the waters poured, 
And 'mid the galley's hollow entrails roared ; 
From side to side she rocked ; with dreadful yell 
Flat on the broad deck many a brave man fell, 
Or at the bulwark clutched full desperately, 
Or from the yards plunged headlong in the sea. 
Yet still the King stood calm and undismayed. 
His hand upon the poop-rail as he swayed 
From side to side, now low, now rising high, 
Now to the Osprey's bulwark drawing nigh, 
As the breach sucked the roaring waters in. 
Then what in Naisi's bosom did begin 
' To warm it, but the brave can ever know. 
; With pitying eye he saw his helpless foe, 
j And bounded to the deck with sounding clang, 
i And thence upon the arm6d bulwark sprang, 
Grasping the shroud, and waited steadily, 
Till with another roar the savasic sea 



l80 DEIRDR^ 

Filled high the ship, that, swaying towards him, 

brought 
Within his generous grasp the prize he sought, — 
The King, who felt as by a giant torn 
From the fast lowering poop, and instant borne 
Over the Osprey's bulwark, snatched away 
From death, for downward through the roaring 

spray 
His ship plunged headlong, sunk before his eyes, 
'Mid wrack and ruin and despairing cries ! 

Thus ceased the fight. Back to the woodland 

plain 
And his great host they sent the King again ; 
And there the fierce old lord of strong Dunthrone 
Swore, by the Gods, a death of grief and moan, 
With maladies unheard of, 'mid the scorn 
Of men might smite him on his bed some morn, 
Long lingering, if he blamed the King ! " No eye 
Could look on her unmoved to win or die. 



THE SOJOURN IN ALBA. l8l 

And whereso'er," he said, " they wandering go, 
War's fires shall burn and valiant blood shall flow 
For love of her bright eyes and beauty rare ! " 

Meanwhile, with banners flaunting in the air. 

The Usnanian fleet sailed out beyond the bay 

'Tween the two looming capes, and all that day, 

O'er ocean's billowy back, and all that night, 

Joyful they sped, till at the morning bright 

With saffron glory came they to an isle 

Whereon eternal summer seemed to smile. 

A heaven it looked, with purple-shining hills, 

1 Sky-mirroring lakes, and ever-murmuring rills, 

I And flowery meads waved by the west wind's fan, 

I 

I And shady woods wherethro' the wild deer ran. 

And grass-green dells and valleys, all day long 

I Vocal with hum of bees and wild-birds' song. 

I And there they anchored in a sheltered cove, 

And there beside a green leaf-whispering grove 

They pitched their tents, and lived full joyously 

I While five years' moons waned o'er the silver sea. 



1 82 DEIRDR^. 



THE RETURN TO EMAN. 



A FEAST in Eman. Many a noble guest, 
Poet and sage and hero of the best, 
Sat round the glittering table with the king, 
And heard the tympan and the sweet harp ring. 
And to the minstrel's music, ruby-red. 
The bright wine sparkled, and the mead-horn sped 
From hand to hand, and laughter rose, and Care, 
Queller of joy, showed no black visage there. 
There sat the king, to each one bland and kind. 
Yet still revolving in his secret mind 
Great thoughts of doom and vengeance ; for the dart 
Of Jealousy still burned within his heart 
With smouldering sting, that showed no outward 

trace 
Of its fell working on his royal face. 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 1 83 

And there sat Conal Carna, he whose power 
Swayed o'er the lands where high Dunseverick's 

tower, 
Perched hke an osprey, in its strength and pride 
Watched o'er the wave of Toth ; and by his 

side, 
Resplendent in his youthful bravery, 
Strongest of Scotic warriors, sat he. 
All-beautiful Cuhullin, whose dread sword 
In after-time for Eman kept the Ford 
'Gainst Mab and Olild till the succor came ; 
And who on red Murtheimne's field of fame 
Fell in his young bloom, fighting for his land. 
There Fergus Royson, at the king's right hand, 
Sat smiling in his lordly raiment bright 
On the glad feast, though oft another light 
Filled his dark eyes of love's sweet wistfulness 
At thought of some dear wile or fond caress 
Of Nessa, his belov'd one, for whose smile 
He bartered Eman's throne ; and all the while, 



1 84 DEIRDR^. 

Mixed with the elders' converse, one could hear 
The laughter of the young knights loud and clear 
Round the gay, glittering board : for all were there 
Who on their golden shields the Red Branch bare. 
And now the bards and minstrels, one by one, 
Sang the king's praise, — fair Nessa's glorious 

son, — 
And traced his tree generic, shaft and root, 
Sweet-blossomed branch and earth-enlivening fruit, 
From Miled's seed. Till 'mid the merriment 
Up rose the King, and through the great hall sent 
His regal voice : — 

" O noble knights ! " he said, 
" Know ye, in all earth's kingdoms wide outspread, 
A kingdom like to mine, a mansion bright 
As this is in all things that with delight 
O'erfill the heart ? Ye know not ! Ah ! but yet 
Think ye no thoughts betimes of sad regret 
For what ye name not, that, if won, would bless 
Your lives with joy, your joy with perfectness ? 



THE RETURN TO EMAN. 1 85 

No ! Then the Gods have made you so that nought 
Humane within your hard hearts they have wrought, 
Forgetful of your comrades ; and must I, 
Your king and lord, alone remembering sigh 
O'er joys of days long past, and know ye not 
Of the fair sunshine of our lives the blot 
That stains it, and makes nought our happi- 
ness ? 
Alas ! that, like a ship in sore distress. 
With rudder gone and ballast spent, our state 
Unsteady sails beneath the blasts of Fate, 
While they are absent, — they the valiant ones, 
The heroes three, great Usna's glorious sons, 
And Eman's mainstay, when grim Danger's eye 
Glares 'ncath his black brows on us threateningly ! " 

Then Conal Carna answered, " Dared we say 
Our rede, O King, before this happy day. 
Oft had we said it ; for full well we know 
No hearts more brave than theirs the earth can 
show. 



1 86 deirbr£. 

Our kindred banished. Mighty props they are 

Of safety, when the fire of Bava's star 

Shines lurid on the thick-hedged spears ; and 

well, 
Ere this, the Alban king the weight can tell 
Of their strong hands of valor : would that they, 
O King, were here to grace our revel gay ! " 

Then red-haired Buin^ whispered mockingly, 
" Behold, O brother Ulan, how the sea, 
With all its foe-dividing waves, can make 
Love between hearts that ever longed to slake 
Their vengeance in the war-tide's bloody stream ! 
Better for them, the Usnanians, that the beam 
Of the cold polar sun should on them fall 
For ever, than that they anigh this hall 
Should bide one hour ! " - i 

"Nay, nay," said Ulan, "nay. ' 
What if our father, Fergus, held the sway 
Of his bright shield o'er them as guaranty 



TEE RETURN TO EMAN. 1 8/ 



Of safety ? for none else, it seemeth me, 

Shall bring them back. But hear the King again." 



" Therefore," the King said, " o'er wide ocean's 

plain 
Send messengers to Alba's pleasant clime, 
And to the Island Fastness ; for the time 
Hath come at last for Usna's glad return. 
And in my heart the fires of longing burn 
To see their faces in Ultonian land, 
For Friendship's hest hath triumphed, by my hand ! " 

At once and at his word a mighty shout 
Of gladness from the glittering throng burst out, 
That stirred the silken banners round the hall. 
And, "Who shall bring them back.-*" cried one 
and all. 

" I know not," said the King, " for well I wis 
That Naisi shuts no eyes upon his bliss ; 



1 88 DEIRDR^. 

And he hath sworn with solemn vows no hand 
Can lead his footsteps to Ultonian land 
Save one of three : Fergus, Roy's kingly son ; 
And Conal Carna ; and our glorious one, 
Cuhullin ; " and, " Full soon," he muttered low, 
" Who loves me and who loves not, I shall know ! 
Then brooding from the hall away went he, 
And sent for Conal Carna privily. 

" Bethink thee, Conal, of the dreadful day 
When through Norwegian wilds we took our 

way, 
Our galley wrecked, and we, two famished men. 
Unknowing all, passed by the gray bear's den, 
And he rushed out on us with thundering roar 
That shook the waste. Upon that desert shore. 
Bethink thee, Conal, when the monster's claw 
Pierced thy strong shoulder, and his fiery jaw 
Opened to crunch thy brass-clad head, how there 
With steadfast hand my good sword I did bare. 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 1 89 

And in the monster's hot heart made its bed, 
And saved thee, Conal Carna ! By my head ! 
Well may I ask thee if thou lovest me ; 
And if the Usnanians 'neath thy guaranty 
Returned to Eman's mansions, and were slain, 
What thou wouldst do to him who caused their 
bane ? " 

" But this," said Conal, with his black brows knit : 
" The earth and all the hollow caves of it 
Should hide him not from death at my right hand, 
Who harmed them ! " 

Then the King : " Like desert sand, 
Shifting thy friendship is ; and well I wot 
That through all change and time thou lov'st me 
not ! " 

Then called he strong Cuhullin. " Ope thine ear, 

O comrade ! On Beraran's day of fear 

Where wert thou, when across the battle wrack 



190 DEIRDRE. 

The sanguine sunset flared ? " 

" Low on my back, 
Within the wood, beneath Beraran's trees, 
Upon my laboring breast three foemen's knees, 
I lay, O King, and I could almost feel 
Touching my throat their brands of bloody steel ! " 

" Who saved thee then ? " 

" None else, O King, but thou 
Didst save me ! O'er thy helmed and royal brow 
I saw the red plume flutter, and I saw 
In foam and thunder near and nearer draw 
Thy war-steed, with the sharp spur's brazen spines 
Rending his gory flanks. As sunlight shines 
On Lora's cataract flashed thy valiant blade 
Out on the greensward from the bosky shade. 
Then all was over. There within the wood 
Once more beside thee. King, all-armed I stood ; 
And there beneath thy sword my captors lay, 
Their headless trunks reddening the thirsty clay ; 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 191 

And I was free, and sought the fight again 
Beside thee, lord and comrade ! " 

" Canst thou then 
Give Hfe for life ? Nay, nay, nay, not thine own ! 
But should the Usnanian heroes nigh our throne 
Come 'neath thy guaranty, what would befall 
By thy right hand if death should smite them all ? " 

" Death and destruction, not alone to thee, 
But to thy people all should hap from me, 
O King ! " the hero said with flashing eye ; 
"For Trust still lives, and Honor ne'er shall 

die 
Within my heart while life abides therein ! " 

" Whoso," the King replied, " thy love shall win 
Should prize the precious pearl, but I know now 
Thou lov'st me not ! " 

And darkening then his brow 
He called for Fergus Royson, and with eyes 



192 DEIRDRE. 

Deep searching questioned him full fast : — 

" He dies 
Who slays them, by this hand, save thee, O King ! " 

"Thou art their guaranty, and thou shalt bring 
The Usnanians back to Eman's mansions bright, 
O Fergus ! Therefore at the morning light 
Spread thy swift sails ; but first swear by the 

Wind 
And the All-powerful Sun, when thou shalt find 
Barach beside his house awaiting thee 
At thy return, that thou wilt send to me 
Without delay Great Usna's sons, that all 
May taste their first bread in my banquet-hall ! " ' 

And Fergus swore. 

To Barach spoke the King: — | 
" Prepare thy board, O Barach, glittering 
With dish of gold and jewelled cups that shine 
Of saffron-tinted mead and ruby wine 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 193 

! O'er-filled, and pillage fruitful wood and plain 
And wandering stream and ocean's wide-spread 

main 
For dainty fare, and give at his return 
A feast to Fergus, the great knight, forsworn 
If he refuse thee ; for in gloomy mood 
One even he strayed by ocean's tumbling flood 
And Daru's house, his father's comrade old 
On many a stricken field. With cups of gold 
And things of unknown price the board was set 
In the gay mansion for the feast, but yet 
No pleadings of the old chief could allure 

j Stern Fergus to the hall. On mead and moor 

j The morn rose bright, and with it Fergus rose 
And sought the place again ; but pirate foes 
From off the main sea wave had come that night 
And sacked the merry mansion, and the light 

1 Now showed his sad eyes where the old chief 
lay 

I Beside his door-post slain ! That very day 

19 M • 



194 DEIRDR^. j 

Before the altar of the Gods, witi'j tears 
And sighs of black remorse, 'mid all hfs peers 
Great Fergus vowed to break the law benign 
Of Hospitality no more ! The wine 
Of revel then prepare for him, and there 
Feast him as fits a king on dainty fare, 
And keep him far from Eman, while I deal 
To Usna's sons my feast of blood and steel 
And God-sent retribution ! Friend, O friend ! 
Time changes, vengeance never, and the end 
That brings my day of reckoning draweth nigh ! ** 

And now as young Dawn up the eastern sky || 

Walked robed in pink and pearl and violet, 
Strong Fergus sought the shore, his white sails I 

set. 
And ploughed the great gray-billow-tumbling sea | 
Towards Alba's land, and in his company 
Took his two sons, stark reapers of the field 
Of valor, and the Bearer of his shield. 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 1 95 

Huge Collon ; and as fast his good ships clave 
With brass-bound keels the brine, the spark he gave 
His sacrificial fire, and o'er its flame 
From the high poop called on the Sea-god's name 
With many a prayer for favoring tide and breeze. 

j Within the wild bright Island of the seas 
The Usnanian heroes lived full happily 
As moon by moon and year by year went by 
In peacefulness. Fair was their dwelling-place. 

I Amid a lovely wildvvood whose green face 
Sloped to the sun with all its whispering bowers, 
It lay half hidden by the climbing flowers 
The ever-changing seasons had given birth 
Round wall and fosse. No sounds save love and 

mirth 
Greeted the listener's ears round that sweet spot, 
The cool rill murmuring through the ferny grot, 
The ringdove's voice the spiry pines among, 
The whisper of the wind-fanned leaves, the song 



196 DEIRDR^. j 

Of small birds from the grove, the laughter light 
Of children dancing on the greensward bright 
With pearls of bloom from Summer's golden hand, j 

Upon a lovely afternoon, when bland 

The air was with sweet scents from wood and 

plain, 
Beneath their trellised home-porch sat the twain, 
Naisi and Deirdre, playing at the chess. 
And now no shadow of the old distress 
Darkened their looks, for all the memory 
Seemed faded of the dreadful days gone by. 
From the green wood-skirt came the blithesome 

sound 
Of Ardan's questing with his hawk and hound ; 
And nigh them, in his gold-hemmed shining 

gear, 
Stood Gaier with Ainli casting of the spear, I 

And shouting as he struck the targe that lay 
Across the Green against a tree-bole gray. 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 1 97 

" O love ! " said Deirdr^, " love ! now nought have 

we 
To think of but our own felicity ; 
For danger from thy conquering arms hath fled, • 
And joy triumphant reigns, and grief is dead. 
Oh ! may our lives for ever shine like this, 
With no dark cloud to shadow o'er our bliss. 
That we may joyful live and joyful die ! " 
As thus with flushing cheeks and love-bright eye 
She spoke, above the green trees from the shore 
With long-drawn stress there came a war-horn's 

roar. 
And following soon rang loud throughout the place 

I The great cry of a mighty man of chase. 
That from the distant hills in dreadful tone 

\ Came echoing back. With one hand on the zone 
That bound her waist, the other o'er her heart 

1 Pressed close, sat Deirdr^, with her lips apart 

I And frightened face wherefrom the chilly dew 
Of terror fell, as drops when morn is new 



198 DEIRDR&. 

Fall from the night-blanched lily : wild she strove 
To speak, but only her white lips would move, 
And no word came ; while eager as the steed 
That hears the trumpet call for battle speed 
Sat Naisi listening, till the shout again 
Filled all the wood. " A mighty man of men, 
A man of Erin shouts that shout of pride ! " 
Glad he exclaimed. " Ah ! no, no ! " Deirdr^ 

cried, 
With voice at length returning, — " No, no, no ! 
No man of Erin shouts that shout of woe 
To us and ours, — a man of Alba cries 
His hunting cry ! " Now filling all the skies, 
The shout a third time came, and then upstood 
Naisi, and called strong Ardan from the wood. 
And Ainli from the Green, and, " Go," he said. 
Unto the port ! Too long have we delayed. 
For Fergus calls ! " 

And Ardan went. " Too well," ;| 
Then Deirdre cried, " I knew that shout. Our knell : 



THE RETURN TO EMAN. 199 

Of doom it is ! " Tlien Naisi : " O delight 
Of our strong hearts, why tell not then ? " 

" Last night 
I dreamt a dream," she said. "A pleasant dream 
At first it was. Across the ocean stream, 
And o'er the gray tops of the Alban hills, 
Three bright birds came with honey in their bills 
From Eman's mansion to our flower-crowned door, 
And lit thereon, and spilled their luscious store 
Into the drinking-cups that we held there 
Beneath them, feasting on our Alban fare. 
That bitter seemed, whenas the taste we knew 
Of these soul-snaring drops. Then heaven's calm 

blue. 
The greenwood spaces, and the sunny plain 
Seemed quivering to the sweet melodious strain 
They sang of Eman ; then away they bore 
To Eman back with three red gouts of gore 
Dripping from their bright bills ! " 

" What weird of woe 



200 DEIRDR^. 

Read'st thou from this, O Deirdr^?" 

" Well we know," 
Said Deirdr^, " than the honey-drops more sweet 
The false man's words are when his stealthy feet 
In friendly guise approach his enemy ; 
And the fair words the King will send to thee 
By Fergus, though at first full sweet they seem, 
Shall end in bloodshed like my hapless dream ! " 

Meanwhile tall Ardan through the wildwood way 
With heart of gladness sought the sounding bay, 
And thence did to their sunny homestead bring 
Great Fergus Royson and his following. 
Then unto Naisi's eyes the silent tear 
Of memory rose, and, " O companions dear !" 
He cried aloud, " bright blessings rest upon 
Your heads from me, the homeless wandering 

one 
Who longs for his returning day by day ! " 
Then followed greetings glad and laughter gay 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 201 

And clasp of hands ; and while their kind eyes 

glowed, 
Sweet kisses of fond welcome they bestowed 
On Fergus and his sons, and led them in 
And feasted them ; and 'mid the joyful din 
Asked for the news of Erin, 

" News the best, 

friends, I bring ; for at the King's behest 

1 come," said Fergus, " 'neath my guaranty 
To bear you back to Eman's halls with me, 
Where the King's love awaits you ! " 

" Better far," 
Cried Deirdre, " here in Alba, where their star 
Of fortune, rising, gilds with glorious ray 
Their sharp foe-frightening swords, and where their 

sway 
Shall yet spread wider than your King's, and where 
We live a joyful life, unknowing care ! " 

" Alas ! alas ! " said Fergus, " on a day 

When I was young, I ploughed the salt-sea spray 



202 DEIRDR^. 

With venturous keel, 'mid bare Faroean isles ; 
And there, well practised in the woodman's wiles, 
I snared a great sea-eagle in his home 
On a wild crag, deep scarred by wind and foam, 
And on my galley's deck with brazen chain 
Bound him ; and with all dainties of the main 
Fed him, until my cleaving keel of brass 
Cut the swarth sands 'neath high Dunevan's Pass 
On Erin's shore. My fortress-gate beside 
I placed him, and with kingly pomp and pride 
Clasped a gold collar round his neck ; but aye 
He drooped and pined for his cold rock and gray, 
And whistling blasts and tumbling surges' boom. 
One morn, when mead and wood with summer's 

bloom 
Were bright, and heaven was bright, I passed him 

by, 

And marked his drooping wing and cheerless eye, 
And smit with sudden ruth unclasped his chain, 
When up into the blue he soared again 



THE RETURN TO EMAN. 203 

With a fierce cry of gladness, and shot forth 
On lightning wing to his beloved north, 
And barren crags and ever-booming seas ! 
So with a man ! Though all the braveries 
And gold and purple and the smiles of kings, 
Yea, all the joys of life this fair earth brings, 
Reward him in his exile, what are they. 
When, waking from his slumbers day by day, 
He sees not — heaven or hell, whate'er it be — 
The land belov'd of his nativity ? " 

Then Naisi : " Well thou sayest ; for better still 
I love my native land, through good and ill. 
Than Alba, though our fortune here is great ; 
And I will go and bide the hand of Fate 
Beneath thy friendly guaranty ? " 

Whereon, 
With troublous eyes and face all wild and wan, 
Dierdr^ burst forth: " Ah me ! ah me ! ah me ! 
Ah ! woe, woe, woe ! What dreadful destiny 



204 DEIRDRi:. 

Pursues us ? " and she cried and sore besought, 
Till Fergus Royson, unto madness wrought, 
Swore by the Gods and Elements, the Moon, 
The silver Stars, and earth-enlivening Sun, 
Should every man of Erin turn his face 
Against them, — king or peasant, high or base, — 
To harm one hair of their bright heads, no mail, 
No sword, no targe, no helmet, should avail 
To shield the doer of the deed from death 
At his right hand ! 

Ere blew the morning's breath. 
That night, with many a shout and trumpet- 
blast. 
In joy from their Albanian home they passed, 
And, as the sunlight gilt the mountains gray, 
Gained the bright port wherein their galleys lay. 
There, as at swarming-time, Clonmala's bees 
With busy murmur crowd the quivering trees. 
The great tribe's sailors from the woodland sward 
Sprang to the fleet, and crowded mast and yard. 



THE RETURN TO EMAN. 205 

And gave their white sails to the purple morn 
And cool, wave-curling breeze; and, outward borne, 
Reached the great ocean-swell, and sped away 
For Eman ; while with face of wild dismay 
Sat Dierdre on the Osprey's poop, her eyes 
Turned to the east and ever-brightening skies 
And hill-tops that she never more might see, 
And whispered her farewell full mournfully : — 

" O land of gladness in the orient bright, 

No more our feet by dell or daisied height 

Shall stray 'neath thy warm suns ! No more, no 

more. 
We'll sit by Drayno's music-murmuring shore. 
Watching the sea-birds and the glancing ships ; 
Or where in Masan's vale the wild bee sips 
The nectar of innumerable flowers. 
With joyous hearts beneath the fragrant bowers 
Of sylvan woodbine and delightful may, 
Full oft we laughed and sang the livelong day ; 



206 DEIRDR^. 

No more in Daro's wild wood shall we hear 
TTie cuckoo's welcome note resounding clear 
From far-off lapses of blue summer air ; 
Nor yet by Liath's hill-ridge, free from care, 
Feast in the moonlight ; nor by Orchay's stream 
Cull the rathe blossoms ; nor where morning's 

beam 
Paints first with gold the pine-tops, shall we see 
The youths and maidens in light revelry 
Dance at the Beltane time with nimble feet 
In Eta's valley, crowned with garlands sweet 
As ever bloomed by grove or brooklet strand 
Of thy green plains ! Farewell ! farewell, dear land ! " 

Then turned she to the westward, weeping sore : 
" O home accurst ! O dread Ultonian shore, 
Why risest thou above the billows bright 
To break my heart and blast mine aching sight ? 
Like a poor bird within the woodman's net 
Beating its wings in vain, I strive and fret 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 20/ 

'Gainst Fate's stern hand that o'er the wallowing 

waves 
Steers the long ship that bears us to our graves, — 
Alas for my belov'd ! and woe is me ! " 

Now as the next morn's sun full gloriously 

Shone on the daisied meads and falling floods 

And ferny hills and green Ultonian woods, 

The driving keels struck smooth Belfarsad's strand, 

And the great tribe in clamor sprung to land. 

And with strong Royson's host in loud acclaim 

Marched inland, till to Barach's house they came. 

And Barach with his ancient face of guile 

Came forth and welcomed them with many a smile 

And many a kiss of falsehood ; and he said, 

" Fair is the feast, O Fergus, I have spread 

In this my house, and all for thy delight ! 

And now I charge thee, by thy hand ! O knight, 

Refuse not, that thy solemn vow remain 

Unbroken, from no revel to abstain 



208 DEIRDRS. 

Given by a man of thine own high degree ! " 
And Fergus heard dismayed, and doubtfully 
Looked on the sons of Usna, while the glow 
Of shame upon his bronzed face seemed to show 
Red as the light upon Bengara's crown 
In summer when the crimson sun goes down. 
" 111 are the words thou sayest, and ill the deed 
Thou doest, O Barach, in mine hour of need ! " 
Stern he replied, "for Usna's sons have sworn 
No food to taste, or be it night or morn, 
Landing, until they sit the King beside ! " 
" I charge thee on thy vow," then Barach cried, 
" To feast with me ! " And Fergus still blood-red 
With shame turned unto Naisi, " By thy head ! 
O Naisi, here this tangled knot thou see'st. 
What wouldst thou do with. Barach and his feast ? " 

" Thy choice thou hast to shun the revel gay 
In Barach's house, or basely to betray 
Thy guaranty ! " 



THE RETURN TO EMAN. 209 

" But I betray it not," 
Cried Fergus, " for my brave sons I allot, 
Ulan and Buine, unto Eman's hall 
To be thy safeguard ; and should, one and all, 
The states of Erin rise to work thee ill, 
Full strong enough are they to guard thee still ! " 

"Feast then with Barach," Naisi said, "and we — 
We care not. Through the dust-cloud we marched 

free 
Of battle many a day, with nought but these 
Our good swords in our hands as guaranties 
Of safety, and be sure we fear not now ! " 

And with fierce eyes and stern contracted brow 

He strode away, fast followed by his host 

And Fergus' sons. As when on some wild 

coast, 
Barren of home and fruit and all things green, 
A wretch is cast, who erst the chief had been 

N 



2IO BEIRDR^. 

Of a tall ship, and sees his sails again 
Spread to the winds by his rebellious men 
And the hull sinking o'er the surge ; with gaze 
Wistful he eyes them through the seaward haze, 
And his heart beats with throbs of unknown pain : 
So Fergus felt as the long glittering train 
Of the two hosts passed on, and from his sight 
Was hidden by the ferny mountain height. 

As nigh the noontide in a shady place 
From their hot speed they rested for a space, 
Said Deirdr^, " Husband, hearken unto me, 
And turn to strong Dunseverick by the sea 
' Neath Conal Carna's ward, and there remain 
Till Fergus from the feast come back again, 
For well I know with secret sword doth wait 
Death for our coming to fair Eman's gate ! " 
Then Naisi : " Love, what sudden weird is 

thine ? 
Once thou didst speak but witching words divine 1 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 211 

Of blithesome cheer : now nought for aye will flow 
From thy sweet mouth but prophecies of woe ! 
Be sure no doomful words, no prophecy, 
Can turn us from our fate, whate'er it be, 
Or good or ill ; and we must journey on 
Unto the end ! " 

Then Ulan Fergusson 
Cried out in anger : " Small the trust, O Queen, 
Thou'st gotten in the swords we draw between 
Thyself and danger, even though by our side 
The sons of Usna stood not glorified 
By their high deeds ; while our sire's plighted faith 
Stands firm to shield thee from all wrong and scathe. 
What need'st thou more ? " 

But she still comfortless 
Cried out, lamenting in her sore distress : 
" Alas ! alas ! alas ! the day of doom 
We left fair Alba and our isle of bloom ! 
Alas ! my heart with grief instinctive breaks, 
And bleeds with ceaseless weeping for their sakes. 



212 DEIRDR^. 

My well-belov'd. Ah ! why did Fergus come 
Like a fell blight upon our pleasant home, 
With honeyed words our happiness to slay, 
And broken faith his victims to betray 
Unto the raging King, whose dreadful net 
Of wrath and guile for our poor lives is set ? — 
Alas ! alas ! the hour that I was born ! " 

Now from the level fields of waving corn 
Again the hosts bright glancing wound, until 
They came to Fincarn's watch-tower on the 

hill,— 
The wild, wind-whistling, far-seen Hill of Foad. 
And there as Naisi down the pathway trode 
And sought his wife and found her not, aback 
He turned along the loud-resounding track. 
And saw her weeping by the watch-tower stern, 
On the green grass amid the waving fern. 
And, " Why delayest thou ? " asked he, tenderly. 
" A dream," she cried, " O love, that came to me, 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 21 t, 

While here I slept. Methought with Gaier I stood 

Upon a green space all besprent with blood, 

And strewn with many a corse ; and thou wert 

there, 
Ainli and Ardan, and the champion fair. 
Young Ulan, on the bloody sward laid low, 
Headless, while Buine in the level glow 
Of the descending sun stood glittering 
Safe in his battle harness by the King, 
Who looked on us with dread triumphant eye. 
Ah ! woe is me ! our hour of death is nigh. 
Woe for brave Illan, and the gentle Three 
With whom I traversed many a land and sea 
In ceaseless danger, feeling naught but joy ! 
And woe for thee, my hapless little boy ! " 

And now unto Ardsalla's height they came. 
And Deirdr^ with her wondrous eyes aflame, 
Like a weird prophetess, cried, " Woe ! woe ! woe ! 
O Naisi, see o'er Eman's towers below 



214 DEIRDR^. 



Yon cloud terrific hang of crimson stain, 
Dripping through lurid air its dreadful rain 
Of gore-drops, till all things beneath are red! 

Naisi, stay ! Oh, mark this wonder dread, 
And flee to strong Dun Dalgan, and abide 
Within its lordly halls of power and pride 
With brave Cuhullin till the feast is o'er ! 
Ah, woe is me ! yon fearful cloud of gore, 
Yon freezing, baleful portent of the air, 

1 speak and breathe in blood while it hangs 

there ! 
Thou fleest not ! Then to Mananan I pray, — 
Lord of the crystal-gleaming realm of spray. 
Since here no human heart can heed my 

moan, 
I call on thee ! Rise from thine azure throne 
Beneath the blue-sky-mirroring, changeful mead 
Of ocean limitless, and in my need 
Hear thou my call, if e'er in other days 
Of joy and dawning love I sang thy praise 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 215 

To sound of harp and ear-bewitching lute ! 

Arise, O Mananan, with voice not mute 

Of warning, my belov'd ones to restrain 

From their destruction ! Ah ! in vain, in vain, 

I call and cry to thee for pitying ruth ! 

Yet think, — bethink thee of my girlish youth, 

My palace fair, my garden all agleam 

With many-tinted blooms, my joyous stream 

That like a living prayer with melody 

Of many songs went murmuring on to thee, 

Freighted each morn and evening's dewy hours 

By these poor hands with wreaths of votive flowers 

For thy delight. Lord of the crystal caves 

And pearl-paved mansions 'neath the world of 

waves ! 
Then hear my cry, the wailing groans that start 
Of agony from out my breaking heart. 
And turn my lov'd ones from the dreadful snare ! " 

Even as she spoke, a breath of gentle air 



2l6 DEIRDR^. 

Blew from the sea-side cliffs and fanned away 
The gore-cloud from before her eyes, and gay 
The sun shone out o'er plain and willowy height, 
And flags and spears and strong battalions bright 
Of the two hosts, that now 'gan moving down 
At Naisi's word to the King's shining town. 
And Deirdre as she went still weeping prayed, 
But no protecting hand her lov'd ones stayed ; 
And her heart sank within her, till her gaze 
Amid the spearmen marked a harness blaze 
Upon a mighty Man, who held a spear 
In his right hand, bedecked with golden gear 
Of rings and studs. A comely face he had. 
And wise bright eyes that made the heart feel glad 
Where'er they smiled, as he strode stately on 
With gait and look familiar, yet unknown. 
And as the archers passed, a man went by 
Amidst them with a gray, soul-piercing eye, 
And belt and quiver filled with many a shaft, 
And mighty bow that all with silver laughed 



THE RETURN TO EMAN. 21/ 

O'er his green-tunicked shoulder ; and once more 
Amongst the trumpeters a man who bore 
A wondrous brazen trumpet in his hand 
Adown the pathway strode, as who would stand 
Swelling his round red cheeks to blow a blast 
Would wake the wide world's dead. Again there 

passed 
With buskined feet, light as the swallow's wing 
That skims the green meads in the flowery 

spring, 
Along the way another glorious one, 
Amidst the heralds ; gay his tabard shone 
From twisted tore to tasselled crimson hem 
With many a golden thread and glittering gem. 
And Deirdre marked these last as they went by 
Look on their lord the Spearman furtively 
From time to time with pleasant looks, and said 
Unto herself, " Be sure my prayer hath sped, 
And all my wailing with kind pity stirs 
His heart, who sends in these his messengers, 



21 8 DEIRDR^. 

Or comes himself ; for surely this must be, 
Yon Spearman bold, the Shaker of the sea ! " 

Said Deirdre, as they came to Eman's gate, 

" O sons of Usna, heedless of your fate, 

List to my words of warning, last of all : 

If the King, manful in his own bright hall, 

Feast you with Eman's nobles, kind and fair 

Your welcome is ; but, if he bid you share 

The banquet in the Red Branch House, then nought 

Can save you from the fell snare he hath wrought, 

Save valor and the keen edge of the sword ! " 

" What boots it now, or cry or warning word ? 
Come joy or grief, come sweet or bitter bread, 
We'll take what fortune sends us ! " Naisi said. 
And then he bade the trumpet sound. Whereon 
Out from the ranks stepped forth that stranger One 
With the broad face and ruddy, and on high 
Raised his great trumpet toward the sunlit sky. 



THE RETURN TO EM AN. 219 

Puffing his cheeks the while, and blew a call, 
Like a wild storm, that shook the ancient wall. 
Then forth from out the heralds' place the man 
Of the gay tabard and the light foot ran, 
And in his grasp the bossy hand-wood took, 
And on the door three strokes of thunder strook ; 
And, with a loud voice as the clarion clear, 
Called through the porch, " The sons of Usna 
here ! " 



220 DEIRDB^. 



THE TRAGEDY OF THE HOUSE OF 
THE RED BRANCH. 



"W TITHIN his guest-hall did the King arise, 

And asked with eager and soul-searching 
eyes 
Where Fergus was. " In Barach's house," they 

said, — 
"The jovial festive-board before them spread, — 
He sits with Barach at the revelling ! " 
Then, filled with secret joy, the crafty King 
Asked the feast's servitors how much for food 
And wine and mead the Red Branch House was | 

good. 
And they replied, " If free from war's stern care, 
The Seven Battalions of the land were there 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 221 

Feasting, twelve moons their revelling might see, 
And still of food and drink no dearth could be." 
"Then ope for Usna's sons its portals wide, 
And spread the board ; for broken is their pride, 
Their valor a sear leaf before the gust. 
Their bright hopes ashes, and their love but dust, 
And let them taste the revel while they can, 
For sure their life is but a little span ! " 

When to the Red Branch House now they had 
come, * 

Bright was the board and gay the banquet-room ; 
For all that one could think or wish was there 
Of wine and amber mead and costly fare. 
And the King's servitors the dainties plied. 
Till all the weary guests were gratified. 
Save blue-eyed Deirdr^ and the valiant Three, 
Who tasted nought, but sat there mournfully, 
Brooding and still, aweary of the path 
From Barach's house to Eman's hall of wrath. 



222 DEIRDR^. 

At last, said Naisi : " If Death tracks our way, 
He'll strike the same, or be we sad or gay ! " 
And the fond twain, for lightening their distress 
And dread suspense, 'gan playing at the chess. 

Within his guest-hall spoke the King : " No word 

Of the false rovers of the sea I've heard, ,'• 

Nor yet of her, my utter bane and woe ! 

Now who unto the Red Branch House will go, 

And tell me if her beauty lives ? For ne'er, 

If yet it blooms, did beauty shine so rare 

On face and form ! " 

Then Lavarcam : " O King, 
News of the rose and lily I shall bring, 
If yet they bloom upon her! " and straightway 
Went from the guest-hall, trembling with dismay, 
Unto the Red Branch House ; and tenderly 
Kissed Deirdre and the well-beloved Three, 
And, looking, saw the royal chess-board glow 
Between them, with its rich, barbaric show 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 223 

Of gold-work and of ebony, and said : 

" 111 do ye do this perilous hour to spread 

The chess-board, that the great King prizeth most, 

O children, of all things that he hath lost, 

Save Deirdr^'s love ; and I, even I, have come 

At his command, to spy if still the bloom 

Live upon Deirdre's cheek. O red lips rare ! 

O rose-bright cheeks ! O wondrous yellow hair ! 

O winsome eyes, that soon may look your last ! 

O matchless one ! what witchery hast thou cast 

O'er all the world wherever thou dost shine, 

That men must worship thee, — a thing divine, — 

And fight and die for thee, as in this hall 

To-night the valiant Three must fight and fall. 

Or conquer for thy sake ? To-night, to-night, 

O sons of Usna, bitter is your plight. 

For you are compassed round by treachery ; 

And dreadful is the deed the morn shall see, 

Wherefrom accurst with everlasting shame 

All men in wrath shall hold bright Eman's name ! " 



224 DEIRDR£. 

Then bade she that they guard their stronghold 

well ; 
And, " Sons of Fergus, be ye fierce and fell 
As bears of Ore," she cried, " within their cave 
Guarding their young, with valorous swords to save 
The Seed of Usna, till your sire's return ! " 
And with compassion keen her heart did burn, 
And from her eyes fell down quick-trickling tears, 
As, 'mid the din and lifting of the spears, 
Her warning words that answered, she was fain 
To seek the guest-hall and the King again. 

" Good news and bad have I, O King ! The good, 
Great Usna's sons across the billowy flood 
Have come to thee, and at thine elbow stand, 
Conquerors of kings, ready at thy command 
To conquer other kings, and make thy sway 
Supreme o'er all the isles : the bad, that May 
Lends not to Deirdre's cheek its brilliancy ; 
For, like a young, light, graceful apple-tree 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 225 

That in the garden grows, — the slenderest one, 

Prinking its satin blossoms in the sun 

In all its pride, till with a mighty roar 

The storm comes, and the blossoms are no more, — ■ 

Beneath Adversity's rough blasts, the rose 

No more on Deirdre's face of sadness blows, 

And all departed is her loveliness ! " 

At this the King's fierce anger and distress 
And jealousy abated ; and he laughed, 
And from his golden cup the red wine quaffed, 
And feasted with his nobles, till the thought 
Again of Deirdre to his mind was brought. 
Then muttered he, " Perchance one charm re- 
mains, — 
One charm, enough to set the world in chains 
On her bright face ; and who will bring me word 
More welcome than the tidings I have heard ? " 
But none he found brave Usna's sons would spy; 
Whereat he, pausing, looked down gloomily. 



226 DEIRDR^. 

Stroking his golden-brown beard, mixed with gray, .! 
Then turned to Maini. " Maini, canst thou say 
Who stew thy sire and brothers ? " 

" Well, full well," j 
With eyes of fire, cried Maini, " I can tell ! 
'Twas Naisi, King!" 

" Go thou, and tell me true, I 
If in fair Deirdre s eyes remain the blue, 
And on her cheeks the rose-bloom ! " 

Maini goes; 
And, as he neared the Red Branch and his foes. 
His heart misgave him, and the chilly sweat 
Of fear and trembling made his swarth brows 

wet. 
And the frame shrink within his dastard skin ; 
Even as the churl who doth the hunt begin 
Of a brown buck that long had 'scaped his spear, | 
Within the wildwood by the reedy mere. 
And sees his quarry ready for the stroke. 
Gleeful, — when nigh him, from some hollow rock, 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 22/ 

The selfsame moment rushes in his wrath 
A mighty wild beast, growling on his path, — 
Trembling he stands, and lets the spear down fall ; 
So Maini, as he neared the Red Branch wall, 
And found the portals barred, with heart adread 
Shivered, and thought, " Full doubtful now I tread 
Revenge's bloody road 'gainst men like these, 
With hearts fulfilled of rage, and memories 
Of me not friendly ! " Then with stealthy feet, 
As the black forest weasel's light and fleet. 
He prowled around the Red Branch, till he found 
An unshut window full of light and sound 
j From the great hall, and, peering through, his eye 
{ Marked Deirdre and her husband silently 
I Moving the chessmen still, their little son 
1 Beside them laughing. Suddenly as one, 
Dreaming of danger, wakes with hurried glance, 
I And sees the foeman nigh with threatening lance, 
Deirdr(b, instinctive, laid her chessman down. 
And looked and saw the swarth face and the frown 



228 DEIRDR^. 

Outside the window, and with secret word 
Told Naisi, who a chessman from the board 
Took, poised, and threw with swift unerring 

aim, 
And struck, uprooting Maini's eye of flame 
Out of its bleeding orbit ! With a yell 
Of pain and baffled vengeance Maini fell, 
Then rushed unto the guest hall, where all grim 
With rage and blood he told what happed to him ! j 

! 

Loud cried the King, "The man who aimed thati 

cast 
Lord of the world might be, should fortune last i 
And life befriend him for a little space ! — 
But what, O Maini, of young Deirdre's face ? 
And doth her beauty live ? " 

• " O King ! O King ! j 
Her beauty is the full June's blossoming 
Of all the flowers that in the fair world blow !" 
Up sprang the fierce King, a devouring glow 



TRAGEDY OF THE BED RRANCH. 229 

Of fury in his eyes, and knowing not 

What his hand held, his jewelled goblet caught 

As one would grasp a foeman's throat, and 

high 
Raised it above his head, and with a cry 
Of battle anger dashed it on the floor 
At Maini's feet; and like the tempest's roar 
Called to his troops, who, answering to his shout, 
From the great palace portals thundered out. 
Swift as the Sea-god's horses raging run 
By the bleak Sand Hills and the House of Donn, 
What time the Ram shakes in the windy sky 
His fleece of woolly clouds, and hail-storms ply 
Their wings, wide ocean scourging ! Clamorous 
In throngs compact they neared the Red Branch 

House, 
With many a shout of vengeance, while within 
Of war-cries and of clashing arms the din 
No less arose ; as when some stormy night 
Great troops of wolves adown the frozen height 



230 DEIRDR^. 

Rush howling to the hoar Norwegian wood 
Where dwell the gray bears and their savage brood ; 
With yell on yell and hunger-litten eyes 
They gird the fastness, while anon replies 
The mighty he-bear, with his growl of doom 
Shaking the brushwood, and o'erhead the gloom 
Is riven by the lightning, and the blast 
Tears through the tree-tops ! So the tumult vast 
Arose and swelled, till backward with a roar 
On its great brazen hinges swung the door, 
And outward o'er the press rang Naisi's voice : — 

" What mean you, men of Eman ? Sad your choice 

'Twixt honor and dishonor, if you break 

The guaranty of Fergus, for whose sake 

From Alba's friendly shores our host we bring ! " i 



But they replied, " We serve our lord the King ! " 
While the King shouted, " By my father's head ! 
Better that Usna's sons lay with the dead 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 23 1 

Than have my wife amongst them ! " 

Hopelessly 
Then Deirdre beat her breast : " Ah, me ! ah, me ! 
False Fergus he hath brought us to betray ! " 
But Buin^ strode from out the press : " Nay, nay, 
O bright one ! Be our sire even false to you, 
Yet to the guaranty his sons are true, 
As thou wilt see with those blue poisonous eyes 
That kill all things whereon their splendor lies ! " 

Then from the house and from the camp behind 
He called his troops, and like the sudden wind 
That with the autumn thunder in its train 
Ploughs up the roaring bay of Beramain, 
Forth rushed he furious, and great havoc made, 
Till by the King's own voice his hand was stayed : — 

" A word ! a word, O Buin^, with thy King ! 
Sheathe thy brave sword ; lead off thy following 
From this hard field of blows, and Foad's fair land 
Of blooming orchard trees thou shalt command. 



232 DEIRDR^. 

And many a town beside thou shalt obtain, 
And many a fertile tract of ripening grain ! " 

" What else, O King ? " 

" Brave Buine, thou shalt be 
My first companion, best belov'd of me ! " 

" Enough," said Buine, " To thy best I yield ! " 
Then led his fierce troops from the echoing field. 

Cried Deirdr^ : " Doubly now are we betrayed, 
For like the sire the sons ! " 

Then, as a blade 
Drawn sudden from the scabbard sharp and sheen, 
Sprang Ulan from the throng. " Not all, I ween, 
Of the brave race of Fergus basely tread 
The path of friend-betrayers ! " fierce he said ; 
" And while this good sword liveth in my hand 
Firm to my father's guaranty I stand, 
As thou shalt see to-night, O glorious one ! " 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 233 

Then dreadful in his flashing arms he shone, 

As he strode forth, and round the house three 

times 
Quick circuit made ; as on the day of mimes 
And feasts and games and jousts on Tailte's ]:)lain, 
Around and round competing coursers strain 
In the fierce chariot race, and sheer the wind 
And champ and foam and toss the dust behind 
In rolling clouds, by one great charger led, 
Fast rushing on a javelin length ahead 
With flying mane ; where'er they thundering pass, 
Low lie the weeds, the shrubs, the meadow grass : 
So Ulan from the great door burst, a wrack 
Of death and horror strewing in his track. 
As through the foe with his strong band he drave 
Three times around the Mansion. True and brave 
By Naisi was he deemed ; for when he came 
Back to the Mansion with his eyes aflame 
And many a red stain on his battle dress. 
There Naisi sat and Ainli at the chess, 



234 ' DEIRDR^. 



Confiding in his guaranty ; and when 

Their faith he saw, unto his work again 

He turned him, Hke a mower of the mead 

By the ale-fiagon freshened in his need 

Of thirst upon a sultry summer day. 

And now to his young son the King did say, 

" O Fiachra, on the selfsame hour and morn 

Ulan and you in this my house were born. 

See how his father's panoply doth shine 

Upon his stalwart frame ! Go, take thou mine, 

My two great spears, the Victor and the Cast, 

Lightning, my sword, my shield, the Ocean vast, 

That on its dazzling orb all work displays 

Of the Gods' hands upon the watery ways, 

And roars when danger's nigh, till from beyond 

High Banba's cliffs her Three great Seas respond 

With turmoil furious ! Take thou them and go, 

And meet fair Ulan with good blow for blow ! " 

And Fiachra in his father's arms arrayed 
Went forth and met fair Ulan blade to blade 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 235 

And clanging shield to shield and spear to spear, 
And for that each to each was comrade dear 
Since childhood, with kind heart pressed unto 

heart 
They first embraced, then moved a rood apart, 
And turned, and poised and cast their javelins 

bright 
Each at the other, and with hands of might 
Then drew their swords, and on the equal field 
Met in mid charge with clash of shield to shield 
And sword edge unto sword edge furiously, 
Till 'neath the rain of blows upon his knee 
Young Fiachra fell, and o'er his crested head 
And brass-clad shoulder raised the Ocean dread, 
Crouching beneath it. With a mighty sound 
That seemed at once from air, from underground, 
From rim, from orb, from centre-spike, began 
The great shield roaring, till the wrinkled span 
Of stormy Cliona answered, and the Sea 
Of Rory raised its voice responsively, 



236 DEIRDRK. 

Far murmuring, and the furious wave of Toth 
Rose round the Giant's Pillars white with froth 
And shook its mane loud bellowing ! 

In a wood 
Anigh fair Eman Conal Carna stood, 
And heard the voice of Toth ; and, " True," he said, 
" My King, my comrade, he is sore bested 
When Toth gives warning thus ! " Then strode 

away 
Through twilight woods and darkening valleys gray 
To Eman's Green, where fighting valiantly, 
Young Fiachra, brought a third time to his knee. 
Held the shield o'er him, Ulan with his sword 
Upraised to smite. Then strong Dunseverick's lord 
Rushed forward blindly, knowing not whose hand 
Held high that threatening sword, and drave his 

brand 
Through Illan's back, without the warning cry 
That heroes give engaging ! Towering high, 
Unfallen still, cried Ulan : — 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 237 

" Who is he, 
Stealing behind, that striketh secretly 
The coward's blow, the sword-stab of the base ? 
For by my hand of valor ! face to face 
Fair battle would I give him, — him who now 
Hath pierced me through the back." 

And who art thou 
Thyself ? " cried Conal. " Ulan Fergusson 
Am I, whose blood thou'st spilt, whose day is done ! 
And art thou Conal Carna ? " 

"I am he ! " 
" Dreadful thy deed, for 'neath my guaranty 
The Sons of Usna in the Red Branch bide. 
And the King seeks to slay them ! " Ulan cried. 
" And thou, — alas for thee, O blind one ! " Bright 
In Conal's eyes there burned a dreadful light. 
And, " By the Gods ! " he said, "but vain and small 
Is the King's crafty plot where this doth fall ! " 
And raising his blood-streaming sword again. 
He cleft young Fiachra's bright head to the brain 



238 DEIRDR£. 

And slew him, and with wrathful strides out-passed 
Into the night-black wood ! 

Now darkening fast 
The shades of death on Ulan fell. He threw 
His sword into the Red Branch House. " To you, 
O dear ones, faithful to the last I live, 
Now to the Gods my guaranty I give, 
And be ye strong and valiant, for no more 
Can Ulan shield you ! " On the field of gore 
Clanging he fell, and by young Fiachra lay. 
In death not parted ! 

^ Now the dreadful fray 
Around the Red Branch House and on the Green 
Grew louder, for with fires whose blazing sheen 
Lightened the lurid heavens, they compassed round 
The mighty strong-barred mansion, wall and mound. 
Shouting like hunters in some desert glen 
Who track the growling wild beast to his den, 
And round the place pile up the fagots dry, 
And set the flames with many a wary eye, 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 239 

And upraised weapon ready for the stroke, 
Watching the monster maddened by the smoke 
Come bursting outward in his savageness ; 
So wrought they round the House, till through the 

press 
Broke Ainli with his battle, on the right 
His archers, on the left the slingers light, 
And in the midst his spearmen ; on they came 
Whirling the fagots full of smoke and flame 
Into their foemen's faces, till at last 
They drave them from the Mansion. 

Now was past 
The third part of the night, when from the door 
Of the strong Mansion gleamed the bristling boar 
On the great shield of Ardan, as he led 
His strong battalions out with tumult dread. 
Swift they advanced, innumerous as the flock 
Of starlings that beneath Ard fin nan's rock 
Seek by the stream bank the rich grasses' seed. 
And scurrying onward blacken all the mead. 



240 DEIRDR^. 

From wall to wall along the smooth Green's span 
A shallow channel with sweet water ran 
Before that dreadful night ; now black it lay 
With blood beneath the flickering torch's ray 
And lurid blaze of fagots. 'Cross its bank 
Sprang the King's troops, resounding rank on rank, 
With hearts of fire the Usnanian charge to meet, 
While near and nearer with earth-shaking feet 
Rushed Ardan's battle, till in mid career 
Met both sides with great shock of sword and 

spear 
And clash of targe and battle-cry: as when 
The risen storm tears up Dunvara's glen. 
Thrashing the forest with its windy flails. 
Incessant, roaring, till it meets and hales 
Tore's cataract with fierce stripes, that down its 

way 
Springs, tossing its wild mane of tawny spray, 
Fain for the combat ; groan and wallowing roar 
Re-echo round Killarney's trem.bling shore 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 24I 

I- From the dread conflict of the wave above, 
The wind below ; so both sides met and strove 
With clamor and wild fury, targe to targe. 
And knee to knee, till 'cross the streamlet's 

marge 
Tall Ardan's serried battle forced the foe 
And drave them from the Mansion ! 

Pale the glow 
Of the young star of morn now lit the sky, 
When round the Mansion rang the battle-cry 
Of the King's troops again. Unto his breast 
With fond embrace his wife strong Naisi pressed, 

; And kissed his little son on lips and eyes, 

I Then threatening in his wrath did he arise, 

I 

Made ready by his thigh the Sea-god's brand, 
And took his bright spears in his armed hand, 
] And poised his flashing shield, and to the lawn 
1 Rushed out far-glittering, like the fiery dawn 
' That now 'gan rising o'er the hills ; and dread 

In wrath he looked, as 'neath Bengara's head 
III p 



242 deirdrS:. 



The monster Fiend that meets the affrighted gaze 
Of the lone peasant, by the pale moon's rays 
Rising from Bala on his seventh year's night, 
With eyes like two great beacons blazing bright, 
Fell jaws and rough-ridged back and bristling 

mane ; 
Forth comes he clashing loud his loosened chain, 
While the belated peasant sick with fear 
Drops on the rushy shore as he draws near! 
So Naisi rattling in his arms rushed out. 
So white with fear the King's troops heard him 

shout, 
And oft 'gan glancing o'er their shoulders back. 
Fain to retreat ! The loud-resounding wrack 
Of war now covered all the field, the lust 
Of blood in fierce eyes blazed, the battle dust 
Voluminous arose, and through its shades 
Flashed up the standards and the brazen blades 
Of spears and brandished swords in the red light 
The young rnorn darted from the eastern height ! 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 243 

Meanwhile within the Mansion Deirdre sate 

In the dark shadow, weeping, desolate, 

With no one but the fair Fingalla nigh 

And Aoife and young Gaier ; for forth to die, 

Or conquer, chiefs and soldiers all were gone, 

Save the strange Spearman, whose gilt harness 

shone 
With fiery splendor, as he stood anear 
Outside the door porch, leaning on his spear 
And littcn by the full blaze of the sun. 
Calmly he watched the surging fight, as one 
Untroubled by earth's perils, glancing round 
Betimes at Gaier, who o'er the battle ground 
Now from a window 'gan to look, and call 
Unto his mother. 

" Rise thou from the wall 
And the dark shadow, mother ! Why keep spread 
Thy mantle mournful o'er thy drooping head .-' 
Arise, and come to me, and have no fears, 
And see the sunlight glitter on the spears, 



244 DEIRDR^. 

And all the gallant show and dusty gloom ! 

Ainli I see, and Ardan ! Mother, come, 

And hear the trumpets and the bickering 

Of sword 'gainst sword, and how the javelins ring 

On mail and boss of targe ! O strong am I, 

By Ainli taught to make the javelin fly 

And send the arrow from the twanging bow ! 

O mother! mother! let me — let me go, 

With my bright shining javelin in my hand, 

And for one moment by my father stand 

And fight for him ! Ah ! ah ! my father ! see 

Where waves in front the Osprey gallantly ! 

See how his great sword shears off head and limb ! 

O mother ! was I not born to fight like him ? 

O mother ! mother ! " wilder still he cried, 

" Give me a sword and place me by his side ! 

Thou wilt not rise ! Alas, art thou afraid ? " 

Then 'cross the floor he ran, and laid his head 
'Gainst her bright head and raised her gently up. 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 245 

Pale was her cheek as the cold chalicecl cup 
Of the first pearly snow-drop, as she caught 
Her child unto her breast, and fondly brought 
His cheek again to hers, and moaned and cried 
In bitter anguish : — 

" Would that I had died 
Far off, far off, and brought thee not to this ! 
Alas ! the dreadful wakening from our bliss ! 
Alas ! death's parting from thee ! " 

Then the child 
Broke from her arms, and, half-bewildered, smiled ; 
And, " Canst thou fear," he cried, " when on the 

field 
My father shows the Osprey on his shield, 
And all the heroes fight the fight for thee ? 
And here stands one to guard us. Mother, see 
How bright he looks and calm ! O Spearman bold," 
With wistful look, he cried aloud, " behold ! 
I pray to thee for that fair jewelled knife 
Thou wearest at thy belt ; for in the strife 



246 DEIRDR^. 

My father fights, and I can strike a blow 
Full quick and strong to aid him 'gainst the foe ! 
Thou wilt not ! Ah ! why look'st thou so ? " for now 
There shone a bright light o'er the Spearman's 

brow 
And in his eyes ; and, lowering his long spear 
Beneath the porch, he smiled as he drew near, 
And took in his Gaier's outstretched hand. 

" Abide, 
O little brave one, by thy mother's side, 
And thou wilt see thy father soon ! " he said. 
Then daintily the strong, bright boy he led 
Across the banquet-hall, and placed him there 
Beside his mother's knee. 

A trumpet blare 
Now shook the Red Branch House, and all the 

Green 
Flashed for a moment with the blinding sheen 
Of Usna's host, as in their strength and pride 
They drove the King's troops back. Then brave 

men died 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 247 

Beneath their vengeful weapons, numberless 

As grass-blades of Glenara's wilderness 

In flowery June, or as the wind-blown grain 

Of sands on Rossapenna's arid plain, 

On a hot morn when drives the summer gust ! 

And now, from out the rolling clouds of dust, 

Victorious, Naisi came, the golden light 

Of the fresh morn his strong battalions bright 

Illuming, as along their blood-stained track 

He led them to the Mansion swiftly back, 

And formed their ranks with shield locked unto 

shield 
In a great serried phalanx on the field. 
Then loud he called his wife ; and at his call 
The glittering Spearman strode into the hall. 
And led them, wife and eager child and maids, 
Into the phalanx of link'd shields and blades. 
And took his great targe from his back, and 

high 
Poised it in front of them full warily, 



248 DEIRDRi:. 

To guard them, while save theirs no mortal ken 
Beheld him as he stood ! 

Now fierce again 
The loud-voiced, shrilly trumpets 'gan to sound ; 
Again the King's troops girt the Usnanians round, 
And showers of darts and arrows 'gan to fly ; 
Again strong Naisi cried his battle-cry, 
And Ainli on his left, and Ardan tall 
On his right hand, through the spear-bristling wall 
Of brass-clad breasts before him thundering drave 
With his fierce host, as drives the Barrow's wave 
Through the late fields of barley, when the rain 
Pours upon Blama's hills, and rock and plain 
Bellow with autumn storms ! So through the foe 
He rushed with his strong host ! The gate of 

woe 
They passed but yesterday at length they won, 
And slew the guards, and outward in the sun 
Burst glittering on the breezy open plain ; 
And life, with all its loss and all its gain, 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 249 

Was in their own hands now to bless or ban. 
Alas ! alas ! for over-trusting man ! 

For now the King to Caffa spoke, and said : 

" O thou, whose honeyed tongue might lure the 

dead 
Out from their lonely graves, canst thou not bring 
Thy rebel grandsons back to love their King ? 
For, if restrained not, ruin sure shall fall 
From their dread, wrathful hands upon us all. 
Then go thou, and with words as Kermad's 

sweet 
Unto my house lead back the wandering feet 
Of the three heroes, that fell jealousy 
And hate no more may sunder them and me ; 
And by my father's head, and by the hand 
Of a true King and Knight, my faith shall stand 
Firm unto them, as stands the Giant's Rock 
With high-raised pillared front against the shock 
Of Toth's wild wind and ever-bickering wave ! " 

II* 



250 DEIRDRE. 



And Caffa went, believing him, and gave 

His hand to Naisi, pledging for the King. 

And sweeter than all sounds of streams that sing 

Down Banba's sunny woodlands, or the lay 

Of birds upon a windless morn of May 

From Barna's grove, or voice of breathing flute 

In Eman's hall, or love-awakening lute 

Played by some fair maid at the silver shrine 

Of mild-faced Samain, fell his words divine 

Upon their war-worn hearts, as fair he spoke 

The false King's message; while a great shout 

broke 
Of joy throughout the listening camp; for all 
Thought of their homes regained, where Usna's hall 
Once gleamed amid its woods by Rory's strand. 
And Naisi in his grandsire's placed his hand, 
Pledging for his great tribe ; and once again 
In camp and palace friendship seemed to reign, 
And gladness, save in Deirdre's heart alone. 
But she, apart, still made her bitter moan, 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 25 1 

Her women round her : — 

" O thou land of bliss, 
That we should leave thy shores to fall on this ! 

Alba of green cliffs and flowery ways, 
Farewell to thee and all thy pleasant days ! 
Once only 'mid thy pleasures did I find 
The bitter draught, the poison of the mind 
That sears the heart. One day in Camelon, 
When round the festive board the wine-cups shone. 
And all was gladness and high festival, 

In the green rose-garden beside the hall, 

1 saw my husband meet beneath the bowers 
Dunthrone's young daughter, Enna of the Flowers, 
The fairest maid of all thy lovely land. 

And there he took and kissed her willing hand, 
And spoke words that I could not hear. Ah, 

me ! 
The soul-consuming fire of jealousy ! 
The torments and the wrath ! Till Naisi swore 
In presence of his arms that evermore 



252 deirdr£. 

He loved me, — me alone. Alas for him ! 

How would her young heart bleed, her eyes grow 

dim 
With bitter floods of falling tears, like mine, 
Were she but here to mark the last sun shine 
On his beloved head ! Ah ! desolate, 
With me she'd weep their fast-approaching fate, 
And we would mingle our sad tears, and cry 
Their funeral dirge together, wild and high 
And fraught with all our woes ; for now their doom 
Is on them, and their last dread day is come ! " 

And now in peace secure the great tribe spent 
The morning hours in well-earned merriment, 
Quaffing the ruddy wine, the false King's boon. 
Till on their wassail smote the beams of noon. 
Then, weary with their labors, down they lay 
In slumber sweet, and saw no other day ; 
For from his house the treacherous monarch came, 
Out rushing like a fast-destroying flame. 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 253 

And with his host in sudden fury swept 
Over their camp, and slew them as they slept ! 

Alas ! for Love, the slayer of brave men, 

Blighter of hearts that ne'er can bloom again ; 

Oft smiling blissfully in humble homes, 

Oft kindling war's dread fires in lordly domes ; 

Coming in all his glory and his joy 

Into the hearts of kings but to destroy, 

Envy his handmaid, and his fatal train 

Wrath and Despair and Hate and black-browed 

Pain, 
Revenge with ready dagger raised on high. 
Remorse with direful face and downcast eye, 
And woeful Murder at the end of all ! 
Alas ! alas ! that such a fate should fall 
On the beloved Ones whose valiant breasts 
Beat ever true and leal. No more their crests 
Shall catch the wind of Victory, no more 
Their shouts be heard above the conflict's roar 



254 DEIRDR^. 

In the brave hours, Time's high-resounding tides, 
When the strong hand the fate of hosts decides ; 
No more with gladsome sound their laugh shall 

ring 
Round the blithe board in days of revelling ; 
For now the Three, the flower of Usna's race, 
Are captive led to their last trysting place. 
And side by side to meet the Headsman's brand 
Upon the doomful Green again they stand. 

Now as they stood upon that blood-stained ground, 
Up spoke the King with all his warriors round : 
" Robbers of royal courts ! Rebellion's spawn ! 
At last, at last the fine-spun web is drawn 
With fatal mesh around you, and 'tis mine 
At last to taste Revenge's fruit divine, 
For which I hungered many a weary year, 
Even as for her that still my heart holds dear, 
The Beautiful, the Bright One, who shall yet 
In after days your very names forget, 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 255 

When you lie rotting underground, and we 

Walk o'er your graves in love's felicity ! 

Now, now you know how far a King's strong hand 

Can reach and grasp his foes o'er sea and land, 

And drag them surely homeward to his knees, 

That he may gloat on their last miseries. 

Like me, like me ! for this, my day of days, 

Hath come at length through long and devious 

ways. 
Purchased by years of thought and steadfast will, 
With license manifold and power to kill ! 
Now, Maini, — now ! remember who hath slain 
Thy kindred upon Bora's bloody plain, 
And bare thy sword, our just revenge to bless, 
And send them unto death and nothingness ! " 

No word they answered, but with steadfast eye 
Returned the fierce King's gaze full scornfully. 

Said Ainli : " Let me, youngest, die the first, 
O Naisi, that mine eyes the sight accurst 



256 DEIRDR^. 

Behold not of your deaths ! " 

Said Ardan : " Nay ! 
Let me, O Naisi, first explore the way 
Unto the gardens of the Gods divine ! " 

But Naisi cried aloud : " No ! brothers mine ! 
We three shall die together, for my meed 
From Mananan will serve us in our need, 
This mighty sword that in its scabbard rings 
When death is nigh to princes and to kings, 
That now even rattles with no gentle shock 
Against its iron safeguard. On the block 
Stretch we our necks together, and one blow 
Shall end alike our gladness and our woe ! " 

He ceased, and plucked the mighty sword and 

bright 
Out from its sheath, and flashed it in the light 
And held it high, and spoke to it : " O friend ! 
No more to fields of glory thou shalt wend 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 257 

Beside my hip, to hew the hero's lane, 

Hedged round by splintered spears and paved with 

slain, 
Through the thick press of battle ; o'er the sea 
No more in quest of fame thou'lt sail with me. 
And climb the hostile galley's poop, and show 
Thy long blade's dreadful splendor to the foe, 
Blinding his eyes with terror ! — O bright Brand ! 
Pity that thou should'st touch a coward's'hand ! — 
Come hither, Maini ! Tremble not, but take 
This foe-destroyer for thy master's sake. 
And with it work thy vengeance fierce and 

fell ! — 
O world ! O son ! O wife ! farewell, farewell ! " 

And Maini took the Brand, and silent there 
In his strong grasp a moment held it bare, 
. Then spoke to it : " O glittering gift of price ! 
O sun-bright boon ! O sword of sacrifice ! 
The Block for my blood-offering, and these 
At once the victims and mine enemies, 

Q 



258 DEIRDR^, 

How have I pleased the Gods that in this hand 
I grasp thee for my vengeance, O bright Brand ? — 
Press close your necks, O heroes ! " 

Like a flame 
Up flashed the sword on high, then down it came. 
And cleft the princely white necks at a blow 
Resounding on the block ! 

Ah, deed of woe ! 

Then at the sight from all that pitying throng 
There burst a shout of anguish loud and long, 
Three times repeated, rending heaven's bright 

air ; 
And with it rose the shrill voice of despair 
From Deirdr^, over all sounds rising high 
And piercing, like a wounded sea-gull's cry 
Heard 'mid the roar of storms, as mad with grief 
She ran from side to side, to lord and chief, 
Imploring them, not knowing what she said, 
Or shrieking in her agony. The dead 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 259 

Caught her wild eye at last, and down she lay 
Beside them, kissing their cold lips of clay, 
And speaking unto them in accents low. 
As if their dull ears heard her words of woe. 
Long lay she, then grew calm and raised her 

face. 
And called her women to that mournful place, 
And said, " O you that followed them and me 
From year to pleasant year beyond the sea, 
Mark you this bursting heart and tearless eye. 
And raise with me their death-song ere I die ! " 

Then rose the lamentable cry, the wail 
Of inarticulate woe that comes when fail 
All words the soul's dread anguish to express. 
And the heart well-nigh bursts with grief's excess. 
And, as it rose, the fierce King's startled ear 
Heard 'mid the wail but Deirdr^'s voice of fear, 
Piercing his bosom like a poisoned knife. 
As though with each shrill cry her failing life 



26o DEIRDRi:. 

Sped forth to follow the brave souls of these 
Who now no more could soothe her agonies ! 

Again distracted ran she to and fro, 
Then by her husband's body lay full low, 
Embracing, till the blood soaked here and there 
The bright gold of her long dishevelled hair. 
At length a low, soft Voice fell on her ear, 
With gentle soothing sound none else could hear, 
And slow she raised her sad face, and behold ! 
Out through the ranks she saw the burnished 

gold 
Glitter upon the Spearman's harness sheen. 
Where by the far-off ballium of the Green, 
He held Gaier's hand, who all unknowing stood 
Of her great misery and that deed of blood. 
She saw the round-cheeked Trumpeter, and him 
Who with light-buskined feet the fields did skim, 
Nimble and swift, with his gay tabard on. 
And him whose silver quiver dazzling shone 



TRAGEDY OF THE RED BRANCH. 26 1 

And mighty bow, the Archer, standing there. 
And thought, "Ah, now the Sea-god hears my 

prayer, 
And he will take my son unto his home 
Where green-hilled Mana smiles o'er ocean's foam, 
Far, far away, — ah ! far away from me 
And certain death and all this misery ! " 
She turned, and, as she looked again, her son, 
Spearman, and Trumpeter, and all, were gone ! 
Lowly upon her husband's breast she laid 
Her bright head, and great moans of anguish made 
That soon grew still. ^ 

Then forward stepped the King, 
Saying, " Make ready now the sweet harp's string. 
Get ready pipe and flute, and open wide 
The palace doors for my recovered bride, 
Whom I shall teach to curse the name of those 
That I have slain, my long-exulting foes ! 
How pale she looks ! but it will pass full soon, 
Like a light silver cloud that dulls the moon, 



262 



DEIRDR^. 



And fades away in one short moment's space 

And light returns to her immortal face ; 

So she will wake and bless my longing gaze ! " 

Gently he knelt him down, and strove to raise 

Her fair head on his arm, but with a pang 

Of fear and horror to his feet he sprang, 

As limp and cold from out his strong arm's rest 

Dropt Deirdre on her husband's gory breast, 

And lay there, never more to rise again, 

And live for love, and fight with grief and pain ! 




THE "NO NAME SERIES." 

What is thought of the Initial Tolume 
of the Series, 

"MERCY PHILBRICK'S CHOICE." 

" ' Mercy Philbrick's Choice' reads rather like a record than a story. Its per- 
sonages are few in number ; there is no 'sensation,' almost no plot, yet it is highly 
interesting- In saying this, we indicate a remarkable story. The stage properties of 
a novel — events, situations, surprises — are che.ip, and easy to come by. It is the 
higher art which discards these, and trusts tor effect to truth and subtlety of character 
drawing." — Boston Transcript. 

" A novel wholly out of the common course, both in plot and style. . . . The moral 
of the book is wholesome, — that no good can come from deceit, and that the relations 
of life and innocent love should be frank and without concealment. Morbidness works 
only for misery, and it is the sane and sunny and sound people who get the best out of 
this life." — Boston Daily Advertiser. 

" ' Mercy Philbrick's Choice ' is a story of great power, great depth of thought and 
fee'in?, great tenderness and reverence for the truthfulness of truth, and great insight 
into life. . . . We dare place it alongside George Eliot's latest in point of poetic in- 
sight, vigor, and knowledge of life, and to say that it is superior to 'Daniel Deronda ' 
in style, and informed by a purer and deeper philosophy." — Cliarles D. Warner, in 
the Hart/ord Courant. 

" It is a pleasure, in these days, to get hold of a new American novel which mani- 
fests both culture and literary skill- The author of 'Mercy Philbrick's Choice' is 
evidently a woman who looks upon autliorship as something more than a pastime, — 
a woman of clear intelligent tastes and distinct aspirations. The refined quality of 
her intellect impresses itself upon the story from first to last" — New York Tribune. 

"Thire are m.any things to be admired in this novel. The artistic delineation of 
character and the subtle rendering of the human atmosphere show a keen appreciation 
ot the delicate shades which make personality and influence the life of ourselves and 
o'.hers." — The Liberal Christian. 

" It is a striking and touching story, — this new one, — and will be greatly read and 
admired, as it deserves to be. There is even genius in some of its touches, which 
reiTiind one of a feminihe counterpart to Hawthorne- " — Springfield Republican. 

" The Tokime is interspersed with some of the sweetest poems to which these latter 
days have given birth, showing that the author is a master of poesy as well as of fas- 
cinating fiction." — Hart/ord Post. 

" It is a story of the simple'^t motives, but as lovely and heart-holding as a sweet 
folk-song. Every jiage is endearingly true to the innermost part of humanity, and the 
author transcribes the workings of hearts and minds witli no less faithfulness than she 
(we insist that it is a 'she' ) gives exquisite pictures of nature and the handiwork 
which ' fashions in silence.' The story is from the pen of a poet, and the inter-current 
verses are each and all gems of ' ray serene,' not too flashing, but very, very appreciable 
to eyes which have learned how to weep." — Boston Traveller. 

" Re.id the book, which is fascinating. The author is certainly a woman. And 
she is a poet, too, of no mean powers, as is proved by the half dozen short poems 
in the book. The sonnet engraved on Mercy's tombstone is not surpassed by any of 
Wordsworth." — Troy IVhig. 

"This book is a novel only in the sense that George Eliot's books are novels. The 
story is subordinated to showing the inevitable working out of opposing moral forces. 
The characters, well drawn as some of them are, are hardly more than dial-pointers on 
the clock of fate. Of dramatic motive there is more tlian enough." — The Unitarian 
Review- 

In one volume, IGmo. Cloth. Gilt and red-lettered. SI. 00. 



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